How To Fall Head Over Heels
by TheBucketWoman
Summary: An accident during hockey practice changes everything. Complete and Total Dasey.
1. Chapter 1

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Rating: T.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Derek Venturi was on his back on the ice and people were undressing him. He had been on his knees just a second before, it felt like, and he'd been about to get up, but what seemed like fifty hands pushed and held him down.

And his throat hurt, but it wasn't as bad as all this. They had him flat on the ice and they were sliding a backboard under him. They put a cervical collar around his neck. He wondered if this is what dogs felt like on the way home from the vet. As they strapped him to the gurney, he'd had nothing else to do but stare at the paramedic that was currently hovering over him. He had random long hairs curling from his eyebrows. He was talking to him in a steady stream that was almost soothing. Almost. Until he'd heard the word "intubate."

_Oh hell no, _Derek thought.

"Hold him," the guy said. Then, "Derek. Derek is it?" He got confirmation from somebody or other, Derek couldn't move his head to look.

"Listen to me, Derek. We need to put this tube down your throat to help you breathe. And you need to be calm so we can do it quickly, Derek. You with me?"

"Yeah," Derek squeaked. He wished he hadn't done that.

Meanwhile the paramedic's training had obviously emphasized the use of the patient's name.

"Okay then. So, Derek, I'm not gonna lie to you; this is not gonna be pleasant, but we wanna make it quick, okay, Derek?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He picked up a walkie-talkie.

"We got a 16-year-old Caucasian male, hockey puck to the throat. BP 170/90, Pulse rapid and strong, brief LOC. Sending you a copy of the EKG strip. Okay, starting an IV normal saline."

"You're doing great." The paramedic—T. Ramos, his name tag read. "You're the man, Derek, okay?"

The tube went in and the world went fuzzy for a minute. Until the guy began to poke him. And Derek opened his eyes to see that they were outside and he was rolling down the parking lot.

"You gotta stay with me, Derek. No one ever fell asleep on Tony Ramos before, and I will not let you ruin my rep, boy. People gonna think I'm boring or something."

_Whatever, Tony,_ he thought.

To say that the ride to the hospital was endless would be an understatement. First there were the sirens. Then there was more pinching and poking, sticking things into him, and a rousing game of "Follow the finger, Derek."

Then:

"So Derek," Tony chirped. "I'm gonna teach you a little ASL here to make things easy, so you could answer some questions."

"This," Tony said making a nodding puppet motion with his right hand, "is 'yes.' Easy to remember."

"And this," Tony made the puppet open and close its mouth, "is 'no.' You still with me Derek?"

_Yes._

_ "Good deal," _Tony said. "Now...you feelin a lot of pain?"

_ Yes. _Derek signed._ You idiot, _he thought.

"Scale of 1 to 5."

Derek held up all five fingers. It didn't hurt this much at first, but the pain was starting to kick in in earnest.

"We're almost there, Derek. The doctors'll give you something as soon as they can. And you will love them like they were your family. Your happy drug-providing, blissful family, okay, Derek?"

_I'm getting really sick of the sound of my name_, Derek thought.

"Okay, Derek?"

_Yes._

Then the ambulance came to a stop, and there was light streaming and gurney bouncing and Derek was wondering just how strong the drugs would be, because there didn't seem to be enough morphine in the world right then.

There was more rolling and Derek finally got a look at who'd been driving. Red hair. Blue eyes. But when she got closer and looked down at him, he saw that she was about Nora's age. Damn.

When the automatic doors of the ER swished open, and they rolled in, He caught a flash of his Dad getting up from an ugly orange chair. He called Derek's name. Derek waved as well as he could, having been strapped down so tightly, as he swished through another set of doors.

More to come. Let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: As cool as it would be to be paid to write for television, alas, it doesn't seem to be happening just yet. In the meantime please don't sue this poor broke chickie for playing.

Chapter Two

"Now why did I do that," George wondered. "Why would I get up and go over there when I knew damn well they weren't letting me near him."

He didn't really expect an answer. Casey had seen them wheel Derek in, which meant that she had seen the same mess he had. She sat back down and managed to fold herself completely into one of the molded plastic chairs in the waiting room. Her head was between her knees and her hair was completely covering her face and partially curtaining her legs. She was getting some rock salt on the edge of the chair. He sat down next to her again and put an arm around her. She took that as her own personal opportunity to cover his shirt in snot. For about the third time, he thanked God that the Davises had taken the other three.

He wanted to call Nora again, but there were signs on every wall saying that he couldn't use the cell phone in the hospital, and the pay phone opposite the vending machine was out of the question because he didn't dare move Casey yet. She wasn't done. He shifted in his chair; he'd be there for a while. His phone hand itched.

And he just realized that when the principal called him at work, he'd taken off, leaving his computer on and an email in progress. Things had seemed so simple then. All he'd been worried about was whether to hyphenate _in loco parentis. _He really should call someone and tell them the shut the computer down. Electricity doesn't grow on trees.

He was sorta glad that Casey hadn't listened to him when he'd told her not to come. She was a distraction at least. He had told her to get the kids and wait at home. It had seemed like the best move at the time. Then, he saw her standing at the ER doors, dancing from foot to foot, and fiddling with the zipper of her coat.

"Emily said she'd watch the others." She had on her I-will-not-be-moved face. It was so much like Nora's I-will-not-be-moved face that he caved immediately. He wondered if Lizzie could do it, too. If so, the next few years would be even more of an adventure than he thought.

Which brought him to where he was now, one teenaged girl attached to his side, her face as hot as a dashboard in August. She pulled herself off of him after a minute or three and apologized for his shirt.

"No big," he said, finally getting up to stretch. He gestured toward the doors. "I need to call your mother."

"Uh-huh." She reached for a magazine and tried to look interested in it. The illusion was a bit more convincing once she turned it right side up. George shook his head as he walked out. For the first time in fifteen years George wanted a cigarette.

He hit number two on his speed dial. It rang long enough for him to be convinced that he was going to get the voice mail again, then Nora picked up.

"Georgie," she said and George felt for a second that all would be well. She had that effect on him. "I'm coming to the exit now. I should be maybe five minutes. Have you heard anything? What exactly did happen? Was anyone else hurt? Have you seen him yet? What--"

"We're waiting," George said.

"Who's 'we'?"

"Couldn't keep Casey away," he said. Then, before she could say anything else, "Emily is watching the other three."

"What do they know?"

"Nothing so far," he said. "I told Casey not to tell them anything. I mean, we can tell Lizzie and Edwin later tonight. After Marti goes to bed."

"Oh God." Nora said. "How are we going to tell Marti?"

"One thing at a time." George said. "She's hanging out with Dimi, probably bossing him into a tea party or something right now, and the less she knows the better." On that note, Nora decided to let him go so that she could find parking. He flipped his phone shut as another ambulance pulled up. They were pulling out what looked to be another teenaged boy. George thought that it really must suck to be a paramedic.

"Sam." George said, almost to himself. _Sam?_ he thought.

"Sam, what the hell?" George said. Sam looked away.

"Sir, we're gonna need you to step back." one of the paramedics said as they wheeled the gurney past.

As George got back inside, it became clear that Casey had seen Sam go by, too. She was dancing from foot to foot again, and wringing the magazine she'd been holding.

"What's going _on _here today?" she said, then she shook her head once, quickly. "OH! George, the doctor!" she said, pointing out a shortish man who looked to be Derek's age, but had to at least be thirty. _Maybe this is a sign of old age_, George thought. _Everyone looks sixteen to me. I am not old enough for this to be happening._

_"_Mr. Venturi," he said. "I'm Dr. Rickman. I've been treating your son, Derek."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Rickman said. "If you would just come with me, I'll take you to him." George began to follow him through the automatic doors, beckoning for Casey to follow. She tossed the magazine she'd been shredding into an empty chair and scurried along behind him.

Dr. Rickman led them to an empty exam room. He said, "Okay, Derek's just gotten back from his MRI and I know that the both of you will be wanting to see him, but before we go, I figured a status update would be in order.

"He was hit in the throat with a hockey puck, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you how serious that can be, but so far, he's been lucky. He's alert, and oriented, and we were finally able to give him something for the pain. The MRI shows some swelling of the larynx, which is why we had to insert a breathing tube, to secure his airway. So this means that he'll be unable to speak for a while--"

"How long do you have to keep the tube in?" Casey asked. George pointed to her vaguely as if she'd read his mind.

"What she said," George added.

"That, I can't say for sure. We'll need to keep an eye on him. Officially, he's serious, but stable, and we need to watch for complications."

"Like--" Casey did it again.

"Well, the laryngoscopy showed hematomas on both vocal folds. With injuries such as this, there's the risk of vocal fold hemorrhage. Plus we need to watch for further swelling."

"What's a hematoma?"

"Bruise," George said.

"Exactly," Rickman said, grinning. "_Grey's Anatomy_?"

"_M.A.S.H_.," George said. "And a little _E.R_, because my wife has a crush on the tall guy,"

"With the Croatian accent," Rickman finished for him.

"Um, _helloo_," Casey said.

"Sorry," Dr. Rickman said. "So the first goal is to get him breathing on his own again, then, we'll have a better idea about what to do next." He paused here, and it seemed like he was waiting for more questions from Casey.

"Why don't I take you to see him now?"

"Okay," George said.

"Oh God," Casey said.

"Need a sec?" Rickman asked.

"Uh huh," said Casey. Her eyes got wide again, her mouth started to quiver, and she began to fan her face with one hand.

"I'll let you guys be for a little while," Dr. Rickman said. "I'll be back to check on him, but if you need me, before then, just have someone page me. Do not hesitate." George nodded, as the younger man left.

_How to do this_, George thought. He spun Casey toward him and took her by the shoulders.

"Take a breath," he said. "I'm gonna go in first, and I'm thinking we're gonna play this like it's no big thing and emphasize the idea that he'll be okay, you with me?"

Casey nodded.

"He is going to be very busy panicking, and we need to do our best to calm him down. Now I know that this is really unfair to you, but if you can try to keep it together for him, you would be doing so much, okay Case?"

"Uh huh," she said. "But he knows that I cry over everything and if I go in all calm and stuff won't he be thinking that that means he's really gonna die? What if--"

_Casey Logic_, George thought. "He won't be thinking that at a time like this; trust me." He hugged her. He promised God and all the saints whose names he hadn't thought of since his Confirmation that he'd really think seriously about going back to church if Casey could just hold it together for him right now.

"Remind me to raise your allowance," he said.

She smiled at what she probably thought was a very weak attempt at humor then pinched the bridge of her nose to stop the tears.

George took a deep breath and went in to see his eldest son.


	3. Chapter 3

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: Me gots nothin...no can sue.

Chapter Three

Casey MacDonald paced in front of the exam room that held her stepbrother, trying to think of what she could possibly say to him to make him feel better. She had the air of someone warming up before an audition.

"De-rek," she said under her breath. "De-_rek..._okay, not that hard. I can do this."

Then the door opened and she heard George say "...check on Nora, she's probably waiting outside wondering if this is the right hospital. Here's Casey."

_Can't do this; cannot do this at all,_ she thought. But suddenly she was in the room with him and his various and sundry tubing. She saw his eyes widen and heard the beeping of his heart monitor speed up just a hair, but she didn't register it until later.

She looked at him for a long moment, stone-faced. Then she shook her head and smirked at _him_ for a change.

"De-_rek_," she said. "I swear, even when you don't steal the remote, you manage to make me miss my shows. Why is that?" _Thank God_ I _don't have a heart monitor, _she thought. Her heart was thudding hard all of a sudden.

He had a dry erase board that someone must have dug up for him, and he wrote: _It's a gift. _Then he tried to add_ SIS, _but the marker was running out and he had to go over the second -s to make it show up. She noticed this and reached into her purse, pulling out a small notebook, yellow with a 1940s pin-up girl on the cover. She handed it to him with the first pen she could dig out. It was tangled in a scrunchy which she hastily yanked away before he took it. One did not leave anything that Derek could make into a slingshot laying around.

Not only was the notebook itself violently girly, but the pen was green and glittery and its ink was apple-scented, and he had no choice but to take it. That should have been funny, but Casey couldn't even force herself to smirk this time.

_Thanks_, he wrote. He looked a little afraid of her.

"Well, Geez, Derek," she said. "You think I'm about to smother you with a pillow or step on your IV or something? There's too many people around." _I deserve an Oscar for this_, she thought. _Who says I can't lie? _

_You'll make it look like an accident, _he wrote.

"Meh," she said. "I'll let you live if they hurry up and put you in a room with a TV."

_You're not getting that remote either,_ he wrote.

"We'll see about that."

They continued on in this vein until Nora opened the door and knocked on the jamb, their signal to wrap it up.

"Well," Casey said. "It's been...something. I'm gonna go see if Emily TiVo'd _Degrassi_ for me."

Derek reached for her sleeve to stop her for a second. Then he scritched something onto the page.

_Do you have to?_

"Yeah," she said"Mom's here, and after they kick her out, they're gonna move you to a room, or something. Then George'll pop up again, I think."

Derek stared at her for a long moment, and she felt completely unable to break eye contact lest something really bad happen. He broke the spell by looking down, blinking a couple of times and then making an okay sign.

She suddenly felt the need to explain herself.

"Emily's had Lizzie, Edwin, and Marti all afternoon, and by now, they're figuring out that something's up, so I need to go home." But he grabbed at her sleeve again.

_Are you coming back?_ He wrote.

This time she stopped herself from saying something wiseass.

"Of course, I'm coming back," she said.

"Look at me" she said_. "_Do you really think I wouldn't?" He had no answer.

"I'm coming back, as soon as they let me in," she said. "I promise."

She turned to go before she started crying again, forcing herself to walk at a normal pace until Nora swooped into the room, saying "Oh, baby, just look at you," and providing the necessary distraction for Casey to take off toward the ladies room. She collided directly with George on the way, and he took the opportunity to bundle her back into her coat and march her toward the parking lot.

"I found out what happened to Sam," George said, when Casey had settled into the front seat of the station wagon.

"Oh my God, Sam," she said. She would never have believed that he could possibly have slipped her mind so utterly. What kind of bad person was she? "Is he okay? What happened?"

"They had to bring him in to sedate him," George began. "His mom was with him just now and she told me that they're thinking of keeping him on a 72 hour hold."

Casey opened her mouth to ask a stupid question and shut it again.

"Because," George said. "Sam's the one who hit Derek."


	4. Chapter 4

How to Fall Head Over Heels

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I'm poor; please do not sue me.

Chapter Four

Part One: Edwin and Lizzie

"Something's up," Edwin said

"Yeah," Lizzie agreed.

They were in the Davis's basement rec. room. They didn't have a games closet so this confab felt all kinds of wrong.

"What do we know so far?"

"Emily's jittery," Lizzie said. "More than usual."

"My dad called and said nothing," Edwin said.

"My mom called and said nothing," Lizzie said.

"Casey called and babbled for five minutes about how to reheat the meatloaf," Edwin said.

"_That's _not so unusual, though," Lizzie mused.

"And we haven't heard from Derek," Edwin said.

"He _is_ the only one missing," Lizzie said. She paced. She didn't think as well without the cord from the light bulb to play with.

"Do you think he got arrested?" Edwin asked. "I'd have to be the man of the house!"

"What about your dad?"

"I'd have to be the boy of the house!" Edwin, for a brief, joyous, moment, pictured Derek in an orange jumpsuit, picking up trash from the side of the road, using one of those stick things. In his mind's eye, a truck came barreling by and splattered Dream Derek with mud.

"Um--Edwin," Lizzie said, waving a hand in front of his face, and, when that didn't work, whacking him.

"Ow?" Edwin said, rubbing his shoulder.

"I was just _saying_…" Lizzie said, "that if Derek had been arrested, your dad would go to the police station, yell at him, bail him out, or leave him there if he's mad enough. There wouldn't have been any reason for Mom and Casey to still be gone, so…"

"So,"

"So why would they all still be out and why is nobody telling us anything?" Lizzie asked. "Why would Emily and her mom pick us up from school acting like it was the most normal thing in the world and, I repeat, not telling us anything?"

"So," Edwin said. "Should we go lean on Emily?"

"Sounds like an idea," Lizzie said, one eyebrow raised. "I only wish _I'd_ thought of it."

Part Two: Emily.

Emily read Catch 22 last year for school, and knew intellectually what the term "Catch 22 situation" meant, or at least she did after Casey had explained it to her, but never in a million years did she think that she'd have to deal with such a big one.

Derek was in the hospital. God only knew what was wrong with him, and she was supposed to keep her mouth shut. But she's never gotten the hang of keeping her mouth shut, and the one day she's prevailed upon to actually keep a secret, for something really important, she's faced with the three greatest investigators this side of Columbo. Marti, so far, was oblivious, but Mulder and Scully in there were about to strike; she could feel it.

And anyway, she didn't think it was right to lie to them. It wouldn't spare anyone any grief. If anything, it would make things worse. She wanted to tell them what she knew. The only problem was, she didn't know much, just enough to make a mess if she blabbed. So, she figured, she was going to go to Hell no matter what she did. Which still didn't make her decision any easier. She paced the kitchen like a caffeinated Hamlet, wired on the three sodas she'd just downed and still unable to make the slightest move. Except maybe toward the bathroom.

And there they were outside the bathroom door when she was done. Lizzie stood blocking the stairs with her arms folded and those two photon lasers she called eyes trained on Emily. Edwin was directly in front of her, covering the rest of the hallway, so unless she wanted to try her luck with the linen closet, she was stuck.

"What's the deal, Emily?" Lizzie asked.

"Deal?"

"Come on," Lizzie said. "I don't feel like playing."

"Me neither," Emily said.

"So then why are you?" Edwin said.

Emily looked from one to the other, then toward Dimi's room where her mom was teaching Dimi and Marti how to play Chinese Checkers.

"Downstairs," she said.

When they got there, she pointed to the island and each kid climbed up on a barstool. She leaned on the counter opposite them and took a deep breath.

"I really, honestly don't know too much," she began.

"How did I know you were going to double talk us, too?" Edwin asked. Emily didn't think he was capable of producing the look on his face. He looked angry, helpless, and unsurprised at the same time.

"I'm not lying to you guys," Emily said. "All I can do is tell you what I do know."

She told them about how she and Casey had been headed to the mall like they did every Friday afternoon to waste time and flirt with the guy behind the counter at the pizza place. Casey's phone had rung shortly after they'd gotten off the bus. They had been cutting across the indoor parking lot and her reception had been lousy at first. Casey had not gotten clear reception until she and Emily had walked through the main doors.

Casey had sat on the edge of the fountain, something she would never do, at least not without checking to see if it was clean first. But today she had just sunk down and promised whoever was on the other line that she was "on it."

"Emily," Casey said. "I need to," then she stopped and changed tacks.

"Can you do something for me?"Casey asked. She told Emily about how Derek had apparently been hurt during hockey practice and that it was serious, but nobody knew anything else. And this is what Emily told Lizzie and Edwin now.

"Oh my God," Edwin said, flatly. "This is really bad, isn't it?"

"We don't know that," Emily said.

"I think we kinda do," Edwin said.

"Do you really think that this could possibly turn out well?" Lizzie said.

"Where did you guys get this attitude from?" Emily asked.

"You know it's bad when the grownups lie to you," Lizzie said.

Part Three: George.

"What do you mean, Sam hit him?" Casey asked.

"Like I said, I talked to his mother, and she said he's doped to the gills, but from what she got from him, the kid took a shot and it went wild and hit Derek."

"Just like that?"

"Well," George said. "Apparently Sam and Derek had been arguing about something or other, and the coach had to separate them in the locker room."

"Oh my God."

"Yeah, that complicates things, doesn't it."

"So he hit him on purpose."

"No," George said. "I really don't think so. I just don't believe that Sam is capable of that, do you?"

"I don't want to," Casey said. She was starting to curl up into the car seat the way she had in the waiting room. "I just want this day to be over already, but we still have to go home and face the others."

"And," George added, "You need to pick up the car from the school parking lot where Derek left it." With that, he turned the key and started up the station wagon.

Part Four: Casey.

They pulled into the lot and Casey scampered out across the patchy blacktop, which still had tiny islands of black speckled snow in spots. She ran to the Honda that George and Nora had presented the two of them with once Casey passed her driver's test. It was cold enough for the door to stick slightly as she tried to open it. It made a crackling noise as the frost on the window broke. She bundled into the driver's seat, shut the door, and started the car, all the while saying "oh pleaseohpleaseohplease" to the heater. As if that would make it heat up faster. The dashboard clock read 9:50; this seemed both impossibly early and impossibly late at the same time. _When did this whole mess start,_ she wondered. _2:30? 2:45? Feels like a week ago. _

" Derek, you're hopeless," she said as she noticed a scatter of CDs on the passenger side, some hanging half-out of their jewel cases. Being Casey, she just couldn't stand that. She leaned over to pick them up.

One of them said "CASEY" in Derek's handwriting. She stared at it for a full minute, thinking of how only Derek could possibly have made a mix CD, put her name on it, and kept it for himself. Then curiosity got the better of her and she stuffed it into her purse for later. Then, George honked his horn, and she remembered what she was there for. She put the car in gear and led the way out onto the street.

She parked out front, allowing George and eventually her mom, access to the driveway. Then she forced herself to get out of the car and head across the lawn to Emily's.

A/N: Thanks to all of you who have reviewed. I can't begin to tell you how happy I am that you like my bit of drama. I have such a case of the warm and fuzzies now. :-)


	5. Chapter 5

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with this show. If I did, the poor actors would be exhausted.

Chapter Five:

Part One: George

George knew the second Emily let him in that he was going to get it. He stood in the doorway and waited for the tidal wave to hit. Emily went to get the kids.

Lizzie was first and one look at her confirmed his suspicion that Emily spilled her guts already. The little girl regarded him with red, swollen, reproachful eyes but said, "Hey, George." She allowed him to pull her into a one-armed hug before she left.

Edwin would not be so easy. He walked past George and out the door without looking at him once. Emily looked like a defendant in front of a hanging judge. He was reminded of that old joke: How do you plead? Like this—pleeeeaaaaasse!

"Marti?" George said.

"She fell asleep upstairs," Emily said. "Mom said that we could just keep her overnight if you like."

"She probably would sleep better here. Did you tell her anything?" _Please God no_, George thought.

"No!" Emily said. "Oh my God. I couldn't think of how to begin to explain it to her."

"Good," George said. "Leave it to me. I'll sit her down tomorrow morning and brave the inevitable."

"I'm still going to hell," Emily said, under her breath.

"I'll save you a seat."

"Huh?"

"Just kidding," George said. "Thanks for everything. You did everything right. Casey would have told them too. Not that I think _anyone_ could stand up to Lizzie and Edwin's cross examination."

"No joke."

"Thank your folks for me," he said, pecking her on the cheek and heading toward his house.

Part Two: Casey

Edwin passed Casey fast enough to create a gust of wind. She stood on the Davis's frozen crackling lawn and watched him go over to their porch where the wall was holding Lizzie up. She looked toward the Davis's front door and saw George take the long walk to their house. Casey made the "I'll call you" sign to Emily. Emily nodded.

By the time she got to the door, she realized that she'd missed the initial blast, but would get caught in the mushroom cloud of fallout.

"ON WHAT PLANET DO YOU THINK I'M GONNA CALM DOWN?" was what Casey heard as she opened the door. She would never have believed that that could have come from sweet, calm, puppy-ish Edwin if she hadn't heard it. It was the voice of hellfire and damnation and it was coming from her thirteen year old stepbrother. She ran the rest of the way into the house, suddenly afraid that she'd have to break something up.

"Edwin," George began.

"Edwin, please, yeah I know," he replied. "I'll just go upstairs and keep my mouth shut and do whatever you tell me to do while you lie to me some more. Believe me, I know the drill."

"I'm trying to tell you..." George started.

"What," Edwin said, "that Derek's on the roof and we can't get him down?"

_Huh?_ Casey thought.

Casey listened to the impossibly loud sound of her own heartbeat as George stood there, trying to regroup. Edwin turned to go upstairs, but George was too quick for him. He grabbed Edwin, pulled him into a struggling angry hug.

"How bout you just hate me in the morning, kiddo," George said into Edwin's hair. "Okay? Can we try that?" Then, he let Edwin break free.

Edwin stood there, red faced and breathing hard, teeth bared a little. "Do you want me to throw my shit fit when it's more convenient for you then?"

"Edwin, oh my God." Casey said. He didn't acknowledge her. Lizzie didn't even look up from her spot on the stairs.

"I made a mistake," George said. "It was a cataclysmic fuck up, even. But I did what I thought was the right thing. Your brother is on a hospital bed right now with a tube down his throat, a cervical collar, unless they took it off, IV tubes, wires, beeping monitors... maybe a catheter, it all started to sound like static to me after a while. They're still worried about whether his vocal cords will hemorrhage and whether he'll need surgery before he'll be able to breathe or swallow, let alone speak. And all this from a wild hockey puck. I didn't think that you wanted to see that just yet. I sent Casey home, because I didn't think she could handle it either. Not that she left, mind you."

"And" George continued, "After she saw him, I was pretty much unable to calm her down for twenty minutes—this shirt will never be dry again. And this from someone who 'hates' him." George used air quotes for the 'hates' part, even though he was too tired for irony. "So maybe someday you will forgive me for being such an idiot just because I wanted you to let us deal with it and we'd tell you everything when we knew more."

"We pictured him dead." Lizzie said. "All night we kept thinking about his funeral. The hockey team carrying the coffin..."

"Stop," Casey said.

"I was at the cemetery throwing dirt on my brother," Edwin said.

"I was thinking all the same things," George said. Casey really felt like throwing up, but since she hadn't eaten since around noon, she figured it couldn't happen. She went over to the stairs and curled up around Lizzie.

"But he's not dead," George continued. "Nora is with him now. They have him in a room already, and she'll stay at least until he falls asleep. He's been awake for most of this. He and Casey traded insults. She gave him her new journal to write on, because obviously he won't be talking for a while, and I hope she didn't write in it yet because anything she's written can and will be used against her. Repeatedly."

"Not funny," Lizzie said.

"Nope," George agreed. "But maybe it will be, eventually."

"Did you two eat?" George asked, going back into Dad mode.

"No," Edwin and Lizzie said, not quite in unison.

"Do you want to?"

"No," Edwin said.

"No," Lizzie said.

"Well," George said. "There's nothing else we can do right now, so howsabout we go to bed, and you guys can go see him in the morning. Visiting hours start around eleven, I think."

"Eleven," Casey confirmed.

"Would they let Marti in?" Edwin asked.

"Doubt it," George said. "But we'll try."

Part Three: Casey

The next morning

Casey was in and out of the shower by 6:30, having given up on sleep at around 3:15, and having exhausted every magazine in the house. She tried going online, but had been so bombarded with emails, and away messages on her messaging program wondering about the great and powerful Derek, that she'd hightailed it out of cyberspace. She braided and unbraided her hair twice, and was currently considering rearranging her furniture. She went into her purse for the scrunchy in there when she came across the CD. The thing gleamed like Excalibur. It would kill half an hour, an hour if she was lucky and as long as she didn't blast it.

She popped it in.

It had some of the usual suspects on it. Our Lady Peace's "Somewhere Out There." Plus 44's "Make You Smile." Postal Service's "Such Great Heights." Badly Drawn Boy's "The Shining." Derek would just have to make another one, because he wasn't getting this one back. She sang along a little as she remade her bed and re alphabetized her own CDs. Then she heard something that stopped her cold. A familiar drum beat, and then Gwen Stefani's voice at the beginning of No Doubt's "New."

But Derek _hated_ this song. He told her so three months before at Karaoke night at the diner. When she'd sung it and gotten a standing ovation. And three waiters' phone numbers. The whole time she'd been singing, _he'd_ been really interested in his French fries. She sat on the edge of the bed, grabbed the remote and shut the CD off, her eyes threatening to fall out of her head.

Part Four: Nora

Saturday mornings in the MacDonald-Venturi house were often as chaotic as Mondays. This one has ballet; that one has tae kwon do, soccer, play rehearsal, chess club, piano and voice lessons, hockey. Playdates. Trips to the mall. Blasting cartoons. But there was none of that today. She'd welcomed the faint sound of the music Casey was playing, had even sung along to the one she knew as she moved though the hall to check on Lizzie and Edwin. But she was unconcerned when it cut off suddenly. The kids didn't eat, so they'd all be ravenous when they got up.

And she was not averse to force feeding them. She really couldn't have anyone going wishy washy on her today. They were all going to need their strength.

The mom-thing was a comforting auto pilot mode for her sometimes. Last night, she'd turned into her own mother so scarily, that Derek had jokingly (she thought) threatened to hit the call button and ask for security if she didn't stop smoothing the sheets and _futzing_ with the hair on his forehead. But she knew that he didn't want her going anywhere, and even if he did, he knew not to mess with Momma Bear.

Before the meds kicked in, she'd tried to keep him amused by wondering out loud why hospital rooms had to have such unholy color schemes.

"I mean, pastel pink and green with black trim? Is it because they want to encourage people not to linger? Hey, maybe it's a get well quick scheme."

"Then," she continued, "They cover everything with this," she made air quotes, " ' wood grain.' and put avocado plastic pitchers in the middle of it all. And don't get me started on the so-called 'art' ..."

_I won't_, Derek wrote. He drew a smiley face in place of a laugh. Not that she deluded herself into thinking that any of this was funny. Casey got the babbling gene from her. But Derek really did have his sweet moments once in a while, and while he could eventually blame some of today's sweetness on the drugs they gave him, nobody who really knew him would believe it.

"I suppose you want me to smuggle in one of the thong posters I'm not supposed to know about, huh?"

He drew a face sticking its tongue out.

"And what smells like apples?"

He underlined the face he just drew. Then drew another with Xs for eyes. He put the pen and the book on that rolling tray thing (more faux wood grain with gray painted steel underneath) and pushed it aside.

"Okay, baby," Nora said, pushing the hair out of his eyes for the umpteenth time, taking advantage of his inability to shoo her away. He kept his eyes trained on her for a minute.

"So listen," she said. "I'm going to hang around until you're asleep, then I must go, but probably a million people will be here tomorrow. Until then, hit the call button if you need anything. Anything at all. This is the only time that you will get away with being a pain in the ass and I think you should take that opportunity."

He made a move for the book again, but she lightly brushed his hand away.

"Nope, uh-uh. Time for sleep," she said.

"Love you," she said pecking him on the forehead, leaving a faint lip print, as he closed his eyes. Then she waited about ten minutes and went out to send the nurse in. He needed to be restrained so that he didn't move around too much or monkey with the tube in his throat while he slept.


	6. Chapter 6

How to Fall Head Over Heels

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: Nice Canadian folk own the show; I am borrowing it real quick, and will bring it back dry cleaned on a hanger.

Chapter Six

Part One: Marti

Emily's mom put chopped bananas into the cereal and set a glass of strawberry milk in front of Marti. Marti remembered her manners for once. She thanked her and didn't scarf it the way she usually did. Nora would be proud. Emily's dad told horrible knock knock jokes and Marti and Dimi groaned until they cracked each other up. Then Emily led Marti to the living room and braided her hair. She didn't pull like Casey did. Casey wasn't allowed to braid Marti's hair anymore since the day she'd pulled Marti's hair so tight that she couldn't blink. That day Derek had waited until Casey wasn't looking and undid the braid.

"Tell her you lost the clip running around or something," he told her.

"Okay, Smerek."

Not that Smerek knew what he was doing either. He left lumps in her hair. Meanwhile, Emily was so cool. She dipped a finger into her lip gloss and told Marti to hold still while she put some on her. Then she spritzed a little perfume in the air in front of Marti and told her to walk through it.

"Cuz this is how you're supposed to do it, so you don't put too much on," Emily said. How did she know this stuff?

She told Emily riddles she learned from the book Casey gave her while they walked home.

"Um, I give up, what goes up a chimney down but not down a chimney up?"

"An umbrella!"

"I probably should have figured that one out," Emily said. Then, she came up to the kitchen door, knocked on it like "shave and a haircut, two bits" and said "Anybody home?"and led Marti in by the hand.

That's when it got weird.

First of all, there was no Smerek. But there was bacon. Her brother never slept through the smell of bacon. Also, everyone was looking at her all frozen and weird. Emily said this lip gloss was a good color. Was it on her teeth? Then everything started up again. Lizzie started pouring the rest of her juice again and Edwin finished chewing whatever he was chewing. Daddy was holding the coffee to his mouth but not drinking it. Then he started drinking it again. Nora finally closed the refrigerator door.

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" Marti yelled and everyone jumped. Daddy put down his coffee and waved her over.

"Marti," he said, "C'mere." When she did, he crouched down on the floor so they could be face to face. That wasn't good. If it was something good, he'd pick her up and put her on the counter.

"We had kind of a bad day yesterday," he started. "Derek had a little accident, and he's gonna be okay, but he needs to stay in the hospital for a few days."

She started to cry that hiccuppy cry, the one that really hurt, and she hated that, because once you started that, it went on for ages. Plus someone was always telling you to quit it, like you could turn it off. Next thing she knew, her daddy was on the floor with her and he was holding her tightly which got lip gloss onto his shirt. They stayed like that for a while, then Casey had her and was leading her upstairs. They got to Casey's room and Casey pointed to her bed and when Marti climbed onto it, still wet and snotty. Casey wadded up a bunch of tissues and put them over Marti's face and said "Blow."

What did she think she was, three? Marti took hold of the tissues and brushed Casey's hand away. She gave an almighty honk, was given more tissues and blew again.

"Is (hic) he (hic) really okay?" Marti asked. Stupid hiccups.

"He will be," Casey said.

"When are we going to see him?"

"Soon I hope."

"You hope?"

"I mean, yeah, we can see him later."

"Now!"

"Soon," Casey said. "But first, I have an idea of what might cheer him up."

Part Two: Edwin

Part of Edwin had been really scandalized by what he'd done last night. He'd made such an ass of himself. He and Lizzie had gotten a little carried away. And Lizzie was usually the calm one, so most of this flying off the handle thing must have been his fault. And now he knew what he was in for as his Dad and Nora sat the two of them down on the couch.

"Lizzie, Edwin," his dad began. "I'm going to start by apologizing to both of you. I was completely wrong in not telling you what was going on."

"What?"Lizzie said.

"Yeah, it may come as a surprise, but sometimes we don't know everything."

"I'm surprised you admitted it," she said. Nora snorted and put a hand over her face like she was trying to cover her mouth before anyone noticed that it was her.

Dad was smiling. "You're right, I should probably admit it more often. It would save time."

"Speaking of time," Nora said.

"Yeah," Dad said. "Visiting hours start in about an hour and a half. We wanna get there early...beat the crowd. But first, I wanna remind you that Derek is going to look like sh...well pretty bad."

"May as well say shit if you want to be honest," Nora said. The world had officially turned upside down.

"Anyway," George said, not missing a beat. "It will be scary. But from what the doctor says, the machinery he's hooked up to is more of a precaution than anything at this point. I freaked out when I saw it, so did Casey."

"Me too," Nora said.

"Nora too. It's ugly, and he's going to be miserable. Now, I told Casey to be normal with him, which was another mistake, because there is nothing wrong with Derek's bullshit detector and it just made things harder on her, but I don't want you guys acting like he's dying either."

"So what do we do?" Edwin said.

"You go get some books that he might actually read," Dad said. Then he pointed to Lizzie and said, "You dig up some CDs and his old CD player. You both have full permission to sneak in something silly to mess with him, but make sure it's predominantly stuff you think he'll like. And don't forget the batteries."

Part Three: Derek

There is nothing on TV this time of day. At least not on network. And something about this paid programming makes him actually want to buy a collection of oldies CDs. He's also learned that one cannot play tic tac toe against oneself, that he will never be a songwriter, and that he needed to work on his handwriting. He flipped through everything he's said in the past eighteen hours or so and _damn_. They would've told him if he were really left-handed all this time wouldn't they?

One last thing he's learned: Casey has this weird thing for doodling disembodied eyes. Dozens of randomly arranged eyeballs, most with excruciating detail stared at him from the first five pages of her journal. Not too creepy.

And he was so damned uncomfortable. Who did he have to fuck in this joint to get untangled long enough to walk around a little? The doctors were afraid of getting sued, so he was stuck in bed whether he needed to be or not. They'd pack him in bubble wrap if they thought they could get away with it. And did any of these doctors know what it really felt like to wake up tied to the bedrails? Derek knew why, the nurse explained it to him, but it didn't change the fact that he'd been tied to the bed. Not to mention the catheter...he didn't want to think about the catheter. Even though there was no ignoring its presence. This place was just evil.

It gave him too much time to think. He'd decided that he was going to try to be mature about this whole thing. He'd spent most of the morning wondering if he would need to learn sign language. He'd decided that he wasn't going to freak out about that. It was always best to think of the worst case scenario, his dad always said. But he was going to play hockey again. What else was he good at?

What else _was_ he good at? Now _there_ was a reason that they should really be keeping him more drugged than they were currently keeping him. He did _not_ need this today. He needed some Vicodin or something. _Drugs,_ he thought. _Drugs, I tell you. Give. Me. Drugs._

It was around this time that his father showed up with Edwin and Lizzie. Now, Derek himself knew full well that only two visitors were allowed at once in here. His dad was being all anti-establishment. He'd smile if he could.

As it was, he winked at the two kids as they came around in front of him.

"He just winked," Lizzie said. "You just _winked_. What do they have you on?"

He picked up the pad. _Not enough_, he wrote. _Could you tell Edwin that he missed a button on his shirt and that we can't take him anywhere? _

Lizzie grinned and pointed at Edwin. She consulted the book and said "Edwin, you missed a button and we can't take you anywhere." What Derek wouldn't have given for Lizzie's delivery of a line.

"Yeah, thanks bro," Edwin deadpanned. "Means a lot coming from someone in an assless hospital gown."

"Edwin," his father said automatically.

_L.O. L._, Derek wrote and held it up until Edwin was finished pulling up his chair. _That, little bro, is sarcasm, _he wrote after a beat.

"Can I leave you two idiots and Lizzie alone for a bit?" his father said. "Got an errand to run."

"I'll keep an eye on them," Lizzie said struggling with a plastic chair bigger than she was. She sat down, and smacked Edwin on the arm. "Thanks for your help, Galahad."

_Amateur_, Derek wrote. A silence fell between the three of them for a long moment, one that made Derek drum his fingers on Casey's notebook. Then Lizzie piped up.

"We have stuff," she said, picking up the plastic shopping bag with his CD player and a few discs. He reached into it and pulled out _Donna Summer's Greatest Hits. _He looked at Lizzie, eyebrows raised. She grinned back at him. Then she pulled out the others. They were mostly mixes that Derek made himself, collages of the original album art as covers. Derek opened one and noticing it was empty, held it up quizzically.

"Oops," Lizzie said. "I just grabbed it off of your desk, so I didn't really look."

_Desk? _He thought. _I left it in the car._ _Oh shit. _He flipped it closed so that no one else would see Casey's name above the track listing in the inside cover.

Part Four: George

While Derek was realizing that his secret was out, George was two floors up visiting another patient.

"That's a really bad idea," Sam said. He was sitting in the visitor's lounge of the psych ward.

"I think it's a brilliant idea," George said. "And I have so few of those, that I don't like to let them get away, so come on."

"No."

"You really don't want to see your best friend."

"Why are you playing dumb, George," Sam said. "I practically killed him."

"You're exaggerating," George said. "It was an accident. I talked to half your team, including Coach Kaminski, and they said you took a bad shot. That there was no way in hell you hit him on purpose."

"Doesn't change the fact that I _did_ hit him."

"And he chipped one of your teeth when you were ten," George said. "You forgave him for that. The two of you knuckleheads fight over everything; this was just a sick coincidental accident. Now I know he wants to see you because the two of you can't stay angry for long. So put some slippers or something on and let's go."

Sam didn't move.

"This is your best friend, Sam," George said. "This would be a good time to think of him and cut the self-pity out."

Sam still didn't move.

"Or not," George said. "Up to you." And with that he left Sam. As he walked to the elevator, he felt secure in the knowledge that he was really going to hell now.

He got back to his son's room just as Edwin and Lizzie were being shooed out by a doctor. He stomach dropped to the floor and decided that it liked it there. He stopped a nurse and asked her what was going on.

"Nothing bad, Mr. Venturi," she said. "Ex-tub-ation." She drew out the syllables for effect. "It'll take a few minutes so, this might be a good time to get food and come back."

George pulled out a twenty and handed it off to Edwin. "Go eat," he said.

"You're not coming?"

"In a few," he said, then added, "And I expect change."

Twenty minutes later, give or take, he found the two of them in the cafeteria.

"My change?" he said. Edwin gave him a dollar. George continued to hold out his hand until the other ten followed.

"Well?" Lizzie asked.

"Tubes are out. He's taking a shower," George said. "What's good here?"

"Depends on your definition of good," Edwin said, as if his mouth weren't full of microwave burger.

"Ew?" Lizzie said, swirling her mac and cheese around.

Part Five: Casey

The mall was usually a very very happy place. Things just didn't look so bad by the light of the book store. But there were too many people in her happy place and they were ruining it. Every five steps someone asked about Derek. That wasn't such a bad thing, she guessed, that some people actually seemed to care about him, but all she wanted was to take Marti and Emily to the damn mall to get Derek a damn get well present and they didn't seem to want to let her. Poor Marti had had to pretend that she needed the ladies room no less than five times to rescue Casey and Emily from well-wishers.

They could have gone to the other mall, the big one in the next town, but it didn't have the store they needed. So they had to suck it up and brave the crush of high school kids.

Finally at the toy store, they felt like they could breathe a bit. Casey was looking at the floor plan to see where they kept the video games when Emily squealed.

"Casey?"

"Yeah?" Casey asked, worried. "What is it?"

"Forget the video games; I have an idea," she said. "I have _the_ idea." Emily pointed.

"Ooh," Marti chirped.


	7. Chapter 7

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: Michael Seater would wanna kick my butt for making him be quiet, so I guess it's a good thing I don't have much to do with the actual inner workings of LWD.

Chapter Seven:

Part One: Derek

His throat still hurt; he had no gag reflex, which meant that they couldn't feed him yet , which meant that he still needed the IV, which meant that he'd had to shower just now with one arm extended to avoid jouncing the thing (with an orderly watching to make sure he didn't fall and crack his head open). And he was sore from the removal of the catheter which he still didn't like to think about. But suddenly he was having the best day ever. He had pants on! Plus, the doctors had chased him out of the bed, so he got to walk around a little. And he thought he just saw Casey and Smarti by the elevator. Which made him want to check his hair and rub a little more obsessively at the tape mark on his left cheek near his mouth. Why didn't they just go ahead and use duct tape to hold tubes in?

He was right behind Casey and Marti as they made their way down the hall to his room. Marti was carrying a ridiculously large bag. There was no way he'd ever beat them there. And Casey was acting skittish, probably because Marti wasn't supposed to be there. Casey was Breaking A Rule. It was so utterly hot.

They turned and entered his room, and Casey had just enough time to say "Where—" when she turned in a circle and spotted him in the doorway. He was leaning against the door jamb and trying to look cool while holding an IV pole. Tougher than it looks. She jumped and clapped a hand over her heart, while Marti gave a mini-squeal, dropped what she'd been carrying and made a bee-line for him.

"Marti, be careful!" Casey said.

Marti attached herself to Derek's hip. His arm closed around her automatically and they stayed there for a long moment. He ruffled her bangs and fingered the end of her braid, which she promptly snatched away. He marched her over to the bed which he promptly climbed back onto.

"So we went to the mall, and people kept coming up to Casey and hugging her and asking us questions and Emily kept trying to find shortcuts to get away from the people, but we kept getting lost and then more people would come and I had to pretend I had to go to the bathroom a bunch of times to get rid of them." Marti said all of that in one breath.

"And then when we got to the store and there were a lot of people and Casey said it'd take forever and more people came up to us and asked about you, and it was so weird, but we got you something!" He reached for Marti's hair again and she ducked and slid off the bed to get the package. It was then that he realized that Casey had barely moved since she'd seen him. Marti was completely unconcerned.

Casey snapped out of it. "Um--" she said, "It was really Emily's idea. We were gonna get you—something else, but...you know..."

_Yeah, yeah, whatever,_ he thought,_ gimme gimme. _He fiddled with the knot on the plastic bag until he gave up and ripped it open to reveal a large box. He had a sudden image one box inside another and another until he opened the last box to reveal a candy bar or something. But then he wangled the box open and peeked inside. He gave Casey a look that screamed "Are you kidding me?" then, unable to take it anymore broke out into a large dopey grin. He would have laughed if he could have.

In the box was a sixteen inch jointed teddy bear wearing a leather jacket. It had oversized headphones around its neck.

"It's a Der-bear," Marti said.

Derek scribbled in the old notebook and handed it to Casey. _I'll get you for this_, it read.

"That reminds me," she said, ignoring his comment and reaching into her purse and pulling out another bag. "I figured you'd want one of these."

It was another journal, this time with a plain green cloth cover. And a pen with ordinary, unscented black ink. He put his arms protectively over the ones she'd given him the night before. _Mine_, he thought. She gave him the eyebrow. He loved that eyebrow.

"Well, it's only a matter of time before you exhaust those, anyway," Casey said.

_Thanks_, he wrote._ I really want to kiss you_, he thought. He patted the bed next to him and Smarti, but Casey grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it up.

"You should just go ahead and stretch out," she said.

Part Two: Casey

How did this boy throw her so completely off balance so often? Did he even know that he was doing it this time? He kept looking at her all serious and the look was so alien to him that she had no choice but to stare back and there was no way to break eye contact.

The night before had been different. He'd been traumatized and he was continuing to be traumatized by everything the doctors were doing. So he'd kept grabbing her arm. He hadn't been thinking straight. He could have done that to anyone. He just didn't want to be alone. And she kept telling herself this even though her mother had been trying to get into the exam room for about ten minutes before Derek had finally let go of Casey's arm. After he'd gotten her to promise to come back.

But he was still doing it, dammit. What was he trying to pull? Was he going to sit there and mess with her head while his little sister doodled aimlessly with his green pen?

She'd wanted so badly to perch on the edge of his bed and perhaps let him lean on her a little as she tried to get his frizzing product free hair to lie down. But when he beckoned her over, she'd pulled up a chair instead.

He rolled his eyes at her, but shrugged because it was such a typical Casey move, and she knew it. Why did she have to be so predictable? And if she wanted a hug, which she did, then why didn't she just go get one?

"So, um," she began. "um..."

He looked at her expectantly.

"School is going to be an adventure on Monday," she said. "I guess I'll have to get all your homework and stuff." She trailed off, then said: "When do you think they'll let you out of here?"

He smirked. _ Maybe Tuesday, but the doc said he might flip flop on that_, he wrote. _Why... so you can keep the car to yourself?_

"Duh," she said. "The car, the packs of gum in the ashtray, the change in between the seats and every CD in there."

She put just a pinch of emphasis on the word CD, hoping for a reaction. She got more Derek laservision. He wanted her to go there, didn't he?

"And you're not getting any of them back," she said. That was as much of a hint as she was willing to drop while Marti was there. "They're mine, all mine. They've got my name on them." One corner of his mouth lifted in reaction. It wasn't a smirk, or a sneer exactly but it wasn't a smile either. This was when she realized that she was sending the wrong signal and needed to fix it.

He grabbed the book Marti wasn't drawing in and wrote: _I dunno what youre talking about._

"No _Doubt_," she replied. "And you missed an apostrophe right over here." She pointed to the spot and took the opportunity to move to the bed to show him exactly where the error was.

"And you have a tape mark," she said, rubbing at his cheek. "Don't let my mom see it, 'cause she'll do the spit thing."

"And that's really gross," Marti piped up.

"Well," she said, "it's just not moving. I guess you're stuck with the spit bath." As she took her hand away from his face, she tucked his hair behind his ear. Aside from the odd shoulder bump or shove, this was the most she'd touched him in a year and she felt like she was petting a feral cat who would scratch as soon as he felt like it. But she decided to risk it.

Eventually, a nurse popped her head in. "Kids," she said. "Wrap it up. Visiting hours ended at 4:00."

Casey's watch said 4:21. "Oops," she said. "We gotta go, Marti."

Marti put up a token protest, but got up onto her knees on the bed and gathered up her coat and scarf and other assorted stuff that had been in her pockets. Derek took Marti's face in one hand and held it for a second. She leaned in and touched her forehead to his. _Be good,_ he mouthed at her.

"I won't," she said and wiggled off of the bed.

Casey made a move to get up, too, but he reached for her shoulder. He gave her that creepily direct look again. She nodded.

"We'll talk later, okay?" she asked.

He nodded.

A/N: Six chapters so far and over 100 reviews. I love you guys, even though I show it by constantly cliffhanging. :-)


	8. Chapter 8

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: If this show were mine, there'd be more cursing, so the fact that it ain't mine is for the best.

Chapter Eight

Part One: Sam

He knew enough to cooperate. He answered questions when asked. Anything less would earn him more time here. He had one day down, two to go. Then whatever happened, happened. He really didn't care anymore.

He'd been as tremendously stupid and careless as he usually was when he was upset. Under stress, he tended to drop things, bump into things, and generally lose focus in what he was doing. This was one reason that he and Casey had initially gotten along so well. He'd identified with her general haplessness.

But this time, someone had gotten hurt.

It didn't help that at the moment that he'd taken the shot that had almost killed his best friend, he'd been imagining that the hockey puck had Derek's face on it. And he'd hit it extra hard. He hadn't been aiming for anything in particular and it would have sailed harmlessly into the wall had Derek not slid into the way. But that didn't matter because he didn't think he'd ever be able to look at Derek again.

Sam and Derek had had a fight. They fought like that maybe five times a year. Their fights had a recognizable cycle to them. Something would annoy one or both of them and the annoyee would become the annoyer. There would be sarcasm, shoving, and then the wrestling would start until they got tired. Then there would be a war of increasingly creative and funny insults—everybody's signal that neither kid was too angry anymore—and then it would be over.

They'd only gotten as far as the shoving this time. Coach Kaminski had broken it up.

"I really don't have time for the two of you to have a cat fight," he'd said. "So unless you ladies want to leave, you'd best get it together. And no hair pulling!"

So the both of them finished changing up and, still clearly seething, went onto the ice. And then, next thing Sam knew, he had put an end to practice.

What they'd been fighting about was irrelevant. Suffice it to say that Derek's overall smug attitude had been rubbing Sam the wrong way for a while and he'd tried to take him down a peg by pushing the one button that he should have known not to push. And that had gotten him shoved into his locker, which had somehow led to all this.

So when George had shown up today, with his sad attempt to make Sam feel guiltier than he already felt, well, George had gotten nowhere. Who was the man kidding, anyway? If anything, he was underestimating the intelligence of his own son. Because forgiving Sam would be stupid. It would take twenty years and a whole lot of new age bullshit to get Derek to even consider it. So the best thing would be to avoid Derek at all costs, crossing paths as little as possible.

Sam looked at the clock in the hall outside his room. It was 6:10. Only 45 hours left. And people were starting to trickle in for the second round of visiting hours. There would be no peace today. He poked his head back into the room, groundhog style and moved back toward the bed. He climbed into it and curled up, doing his best to disappear into the scratchy blanket.

A nurse cleared her throat behind him. He knew by now that if he didn't acknowledge her, she only bother him until he did, or worse, she'd get a doctor. So he turned around.

"Someone here to see you," she said. She had blond hair and a helium voice. Just the thing to drive people in the psych ward crazier. He got up and followed her to the visitor's lounge, staring at the floor and following the pattern of the linoleum. It was speckled white with alternating accent tiles of pea green and carrot orange, like a supermarket, or a school cafeteria. Guaranteed to kill the appetite.

The pattern was interrupted by a pair of clunky black boots. He stopped and looked up to see Casey looking at him wide eyed. She moved to hug him, the way she always did and he moved out of her reach. She tried to cover up the awkwardness of that by talking at him, telling him he looked good and that she was sorry she hadn't come earlier. She beckoned him to a couch and they both sat. She kept trying to get him to make eye contact but he was having none of that.

"Derek's been asking for you," she said.

"Well, he'll grow out of that phase."

"When has he ever grown out of anything?" Casey said. "The fact is, he'll never stop bugging us until he gets what he wants, so for the sake of our sanity..."

"Casey."

"Sam."

"Stop trying to make this cute; it isn't cute."

"Who said anything about cute?" Casey said. "I mean it. He wants to see you. He told George what happened, he remembers the whole thing, and even your coach said—"

"Why does that matter?"

"Well," Casey said, "I don't know, but it does. I mean, did you do this on purpose?"

"No," he said. "But all I was thinking about was kicking his ass."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Casey said. "But I don't feel guilty about it."

"Because you didn't almost kill him."

"Not for lack of trying," she said. "So, what were you fighting about, anyway?"

"Stupid shit," he lied.

"How often do you fight over 'stupid shit'?" She did air quotes.

"Constantly," he said.

"How often have you really wanted to hurt him?"she asked. "I mean, really hurt him, not 'I'm gonna kill him' but really cause him harm?" More air quotes.

"Never."

"So what's your damn problem?" Casey asked, the exasperation causing her voice to go falsetto. She caught it and took a breath before she spoke again. "You're hurting him now by staying away."

Part Two: Emily

Emily, unsure of the etiquette of the situation, stood stiffly in the doorway of Derek's room until he rolled his eyes spectacularly and waved her over. She took the chair that somebody had finally had the sense to leave a bit closer to the bed.

She took a good look at him and, before she could stop herself, blurted, "Jesus, that looks horrible." She was looking directly at his bruised neck. "It hurts, like, a lot, right?"

Before he could write down a reply, she said: "Why would I say something like that, of course it hurts, I mean 'duh Emily' but, just, oh my God, Derek."

He waited for a second and wrote, _Are you done?_

"Yeah, okay," she said, "sorry about that." He waved it off.

_The bear was your idea, huh?_ He wrote.

"You know you love it," she said.

He looked a little sheepish.

"So," she said. "Half the town stopped us at the mall today to see how you were doing. People are being turned away downstairs. It's like they have a velvet rope at your door."

_What else is new? _He wrote. Then: _Where's Sam?_

"Um," she said, "Sam?" When would this family learn about what happens when you withhold information? She was really going to need a break from this weekend.

He underlined _Sam_. Emily resisted the urge to cross herself before she told him.

"Sam's upstairs," she said. "When he hit you, he flipped out because he thought he killed you and they ended up bringing him here and holding him. I can't believe they didn't tell you, after all that happened at the house last night, you'd think people would learn what happens when you lie—"

Derek held up a hand to halt her for a second. He wrote: _What happened the house last night? _

"Oh God," Emily said, rubbing her temples. "I watched Edwin, Lizzie and Marti while everybody else was waiting to hear about you. We kept Marti overnight. We went several hours without any news and your folks told me not to tell the kids anything. Now I can understand not telling Marti, but the other two knew something was wrong and they needled me until I told them that you were in the hospital."

"Casey says that there was a big screaming match between Edwin and your dad," Emily continued.

_Can't believe it,_ he wrote. _Will have to talk to Dad about this. So—about Sam..._

"Sam's kinda afraid of you, I think."

_He's an idiot. Is there a way to get a message to him?_

"Casey's working on him right now," Emily said. "She wants to try to get him down here. Your dad tried before. If it doesn't work, I guess, we can try giving him a message from you."

He scribbled in the book, ripped the page out and folded it in half. Then he gestured that she could open it if she wanted. It read: _Get your silly ass down here before I come up there._

Part Three: Casey

She didn't know how George had managed to get permission for Sam to leave the ward, even for a few minutes, and she didn't care. There was a very large orderly following them downstairs, but even that seemed like a token security measure. Just in case.

They came to the door and Casey waited outside.

Casey for her part, eavesdropped shamelessly, as Emily squealed in surprise and gushed all over Sam, then Emily left the room and left Derek and Sam alone. That's when Em joined Casey in eavesdropping. From his spot just inside the room, Jack, the orderly, shook his head at the both of them, mock disapprovingly.

"What are they doing?" Casey whispered.

"I know," They heard Sam say

"Obviously, they're contemplating the universe, Casey," Emily snarked.

"Ew!" Casey said.

"Relax, and spy like a normal person, Case?" Emily said.

"Are you gonna tell her, or what?" Sam asked. Casey had clearly lost the thread of the conversation.

"Ooh?" Emily said. "I think they're talking about you."

This made Casey's heart pound and she could feel her eyes bugging again.

"Me?"

"Don't be dense, Case," Emily said. "After what you told me about last night and this afternoon? I don't know who you think you're kidding."

"I'm not trying to kid anyone."

Emily seemed to notice then that Jack was watching these proceedings with great interest.

"Sorry, Jack," she said as she led Casey toward the ladies room. "We'll be right back."

"This is such a bad move," Casey said, once they got there.

"What is?"

"He doesn't really mean it," Casey said.

"What, Case, do you think he's pranking you? Do you really think he's that bad of a person?"

"I don't mean it like that! I just mean that he's scared. He doesn't want to be alone, and he probably thinks that I'm the only one who would have him in his condition, so he's subconsciously latching on. When he's better, that will be that."

Emily paused for a minute, then said. "I think that when Sam goes back upstairs, you should go with him, and maybe you can have adjoining rooms."

"I'm right, Emily."

"You're crazy, Casey," Emily said. "He's been nuts about you for a while now. Remember karaoke night?"

"He was being a creep," Casey said.

"A jealous creep," Emily said.

"He made a mix CD, with the song that I sang on it. And he put my name on it, but never gave it to me. I found it yesterday in the car."

"Oh my gosh," Emily said. "I will kick your ass so hard if you don't make some kind of move, like, immediately. 'Cause if a guy did that for me, I swear. And stop crying; we gotta go back."

"Someone's always telling me to stop crying!" Casey blubbered.

"I am so over this weekend," Emily said.


	9. Chapter 9

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I don't make TV money, so it stands to reason that I have no stake in this show. Nor do I own the stuff I make reference to, especially the really old joke Derek tells, but you knew that.

Chapter Nine

Part One: George

The answering machine was flashing F when he got home. Nora had clearly turned the ringer off at some point, and he didn't blame her. She always had her cell with her anyway. He found Nora on the couch with a cup of coffee that he could smell from the door. Sweet caffeinated bliss. Edwin was sprawled ungracefully across the rest of the couch, asleep, his legs hanging off of the arm, his head pressed against Nora's leg. Lizzie sat on the floor in front of Edwin. They were watching some British chick-flick, one of the ones where Colin Firth gets wet; George couldn't keep them straight. Marti was on the chair next to the bookcase, following Edwin's example.

So since he knew that he had time to kill, he went into the kitchen, poured himself some of the coffee Nora made and hit the answering machine, the way he usually did at night. There was one message from Mel, his officemate, telling him that she had control over the Hastings case, and that he should just "take care of his people." Twenty-five were from assorted friends of Derek. Five were from George's ex-wife, Abby, who:

1. Just got the message. Wanted details.

2. Was stuck in Colorado with Chuck, the boyfriend.

3. Was snowed in and couldn't get a flight out.

4. Still couldn't get a flight out.

5. Needed someone to call her back, for the love of God.

The last thing George needed right then was the voice of his ex over the phone, cursing everyone who'd ever been involved in aviation back to the Wright Brothers and Icarus.

He wasn't much of a drinker, so there was nothing that he could do to make the phone call easier.

"Hi Abby," he said, when she picked up.

"Bout time," she said. "Thought I'd drop dead waiting for you to call me back."

"I'm sorry, Abby." It was always best to give her what she wanted and back away slowly.

"I was up all night," she said. "I'm this close to digging a tunnel with a plastic spork to get the hell out of this airport. I'd get home faster if I flapped my arms."

"Just relax, Abby," George said. "We got it under control."

"Define under control."

"Right now, your son is most likely tormenting his stepsister and will continue to do so until visiting hours end, which should be in about half and hour. His biggest danger is probably Casey herself."

"I guess that's comforting in a way."

"In a way," George agreed.

"It took me forever to get through to the hospital, and the nurse was pretty vague when I called, so..."

"They are 'cautiously optimistic' about the possibility of a 'positive patient care outcome' and barring any 'unforeseen complications' or 'therapeutic misadventures' that could lead to a 'sentinel event,' they can kick him out by Tuesday or so." George said. "Sound familiar? But in general, he's happy as a clam 'cause the tube's out of his throat and we brought him some sweatpants so his butt's no longer to the breeze—"

"What about his voice?"

"That we gotta wait and see about," George said. "So far, we know that the vocal cords aren't paralyzed and that's good, but how much voice he gets back is anybody's guess because they're still watching for damage that can show up later. But so far, he seems to be healing."

"Is he miserable?" Abby asked.

"Pretty miserable, yeah," George said. "The docs have forbid him from even attempting to speak, and you know as much as anyone how hard it is to get Derek to shut up."

"This is true."

"But he's being good about it," George said. "I expected way more trouble from him. But maybe I'm jinxing it."

"You do that sometimes."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," she said. "I guess I'll let you go now. If you could just let him know I love him and that I'm coming as fast as the spork will let me—"

"Will do," George said.

Part Two: Casey

Sam had taken off after about half an hour, Jack the orderly in tow. Jack looked sorry to see the show end. He winked at Casey on the way out, and she had the feeling that he was going to enjoy dishing with the nurses later. Didn't they have to keep these things confidential?

There was progress. Sam had let both Casey and Emily hug him before he left, and he and Derek had done that knuckle bump thing that boys did. Then Emily had decided to leave, even as Casey clutched at her like Wile E. Coyote clings to the edge of a cliff.

So suddenly she was alone with Derek again. How she wished for Marti to sit between them on the bed.

And why did Emily leave her like that? She was acting like she was leaving Casey in a closet for a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Casey had never played Seven Minutes in Heaven. She didn't think that she'd be good at it. She'd have to be untangled from hangers, she was sure of it. It was too early for them to be alone. Casey wasn't ready to be alone with him yet. She needed time to think, to analyze and formulate a plan of action. She needed contingency plans. A mission statement maybe. Index cards. This, if she chose to go for it, would be no small undertaking. No one else seemed to see the seriousness of the situation.

He was smirking at her again, like he knew what she was thinking. She looked at the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners when he did that, or when he smiled full out, and she lost her train of thought.

_Oh yeah, plan of action...strategy,_ _index cards_, _got it,_ she thought. Then there was a pause in which no coherent thought entered her head, until, suddenly she thought:_ Small talk! I can do that! _

"So what books did Edwin and Lizzie bring you?"

Derek reached into the nightstand and pulled out some paperbacks. He held them up, game show style.

"Whose idea was the Rachael Ray cookbook?"

_Edwin's. He will be punished, _he wrote.

"Well, this Stephen King might be good," she said, indicating the beat up copy of _The Talisman. _

_It's huge_, he wrote.

"It's medium for King, I think," she said.

_Yikes,_ he mouthed.

"Don't be so lazy," she said. "It'll probably be a great read."

_Edwin read it,_ he wrote.

"See?" Casey said. "It's not like he brought you _War and Peace_; he wants you to be entertained."

_Did he really go off on Dad?_ Derek wanted to know.

"Yeah, he did," Casey said. "I've never seen anything like it."

_That is surprisingly cool,_ Derek wrote.

"So not cool," Casey said. "He and Lizzie were terrified."

_I'm proud of him_, Derek wrote. _Don't tell him that._

"I'm proud of him too, actually," Casey said. "By the way, in the middle of his rant, he said something like 'Derek's on the roof and we can't get him down.' What does that mean?"

He gave her an "are you kidding" look and scribbled for a long time. Then he handed her the notebook.

He wrote:

_This guy has to leave town for a week or so, and he has his brother cat sit for him. He calls after a day or so to see how everything's going and his brother tells him that the cat died. The guy flips out, tells his bro that he should've broken the news more gently, saying "The cat's on the roof and we can't get him down," the first time he called. The next time he called, the brother should say that the cat caught a cold or something. Then, the next day, the brother could have told him that the cat died. So the brother apologizes, says he'll know better next time. Then the guy asks, "How's Mom?" And the brother says: "Mom's on the roof and we can't get her down."_

"That is so not funny," Casey said. "That's horrible!"

He gave her the eyebrow, but then shrugged. He pointed to his wrist, gesturing at the watch he wasn't wearing.

"It's 9:30," she said, looking at her watch. "Oh crap. Mom and George will kill me."

_The car broke down. You ran out of gas. And you can't find your watch,_ he wrote. _If I were you I'd take it off before you try that excuse, tho._

"'Cause those excuses work so well when you use them."

He had to give her that. _Be safe?_ He wrote.

"You're being protective?"

_If you really want to crash into stuff, I can't stop you, but I can offer suggestions,_ he wrote.

"I guess I can take a suggestion," she said. "So I'll be over at some point tomorrow, but I have an essay that I haven't started, so I can't be too long."

_Preee-dictable_, he wrote.

"That's me." With that she leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. Then, she gathered up her stuff and left.

Part Three: At the nurses' station.

"I want popcorn," said one nurse, leaning on the desk.

"Yeah, those two are fun to watch aren't they?" said the other. "Why do you think I keep letting her stay late?"


	10. Chapter 10

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I wish. But if wishes were fishes...etc. So, yeah I don't own the show. Okay?

Chapter Ten:

Part One: Casey.

Sunday Afternoon

She couldn't possibly be less interested in this stupid essay. The topic question she had been given was: "If you could go back in time, to what time period would you go and why?" If she ignored the grievous insult to her intelligence, she couldn't ignore the pointlessness of the question. Why would anyone really want to go back in time?

But, being Casey, she gave it a shot. First, she imagined going to Jane Austen's England, with the manners and the candlelight and the empire waist dresses, but ran into trouble when she remembered that women had absolutely no rights and if they were unmarried, they were screwed. So much for that.

Then, she decided that the 1940s were an exciting time, what with people coming together to join the war effort and women joining the workforce, but then she remembered the racism, and the fact that millions of people died in combat and millions of others were systematically murdered. That wouldn't be much fun either.

So, in a quick frustrated burst, she typed:

_I really can't imagine wanting to go back to any time in history. We've been taught over and over that history is fraught with hatred, stupidity, and really pathetic grabs for power, some of which, as horrible as it sounds, worked. As a woman, through most of history, I wouldn't be allowed to hold down a job, own property or get a proper education. And my problems would be even worse if I were part of any ethnic minority, so I've decided that even though the current era is far from perfect, I wouldn't want to be anywhere but where I am right now._

That would do for a start. She saved it, and went downstairs for a snack. She found Nora at the kitchen table with Edwin and Lizzie; all three working on a pile of chocolate chunk cookies. Casey had been thinking about grabbing a banana, but the cookies called her name. She poured some milk and sat down with them.

"Whatcha talking about?" she said.

"Cookies," Edwin said, his mouth full.

"Ew?" Lizzie and Casey said.

"What were you up to up there," Nora said,changing the subject. "You were so quiet."

"Stupid pointless essay."

"That'll do it," Nora said. "What do you have to write about?"

Casey told her about the assignment, detailing each abortive attempt and complaining in general about the lack of imagination in some of her teachers.

"Who are you," Edwin said, "and what have you done with Casey?"

"Yeah, well," she said, "Long weekend."

"This is true," Nora said. "And there's no way I'm cooking tonight. Are you planning on going to see Derek?"

"Yeah," Casey said.

"Well," Nora said. "I'll have George and Marti pick up some Chinese food on their way back, and we can eat real quick and then you go. Don't be so late this time." Her mouth twitched.

"Wait," Lizzie said, "Are we letting Marti near a Chinese takeout menu? Remember last time?"

"The Pu Pu Platter?" Nora said, "I remember it well."

Edwin and Lizzie, after a few more cookies, excused themselves to finish their own pointless homework. Now Nora had Casey to herself.

"Listen, kiddo," Nora said. "Just wanted to say that you've been really great during all of this."

"Um, thanks," Casey said. She thought she'd been a basketcase.

"You really have been great. When I think of how you took care of Marti yesterday, how you got her calmed down. And how you've been fielding all those calls and messages from Derek's friends, I am just so gushingly proud of you, and will have to embarrass you publicly about it at the next opportunity."

"Thanks, I think."

"But, this has to have been way more stressful than you've let on and you have this habit of bottling things up until you blow your cork, so I'm a little worried about when that'll happen."

"I'm okay, Mom," Casey said. "Seriously. I kind of exploded all over George on Friday night. You saw his shirt."

"But if you want to talk about _anything_," Nora continued, "you do remember where to find me, don't you?"

"I do."

"And you have Paul to talk to at school," Nora said. "It doesn't really matter who you talk to, as long as you talk to someone okay?"

"I know," Casey said. "But right now, I need to finish this stupid essay before dinner." She got up from the table and brought her glass to the sink, quickly guzzling the last of the milk before washing the glass.

Part Two: Derek.

He was really getting sick of this hospital. He was tired of doctors coming in every so often to stick a tongue depressor into his mouth to see if he gagged. He'd been ready to beat up the intern who'd finally gotten him to gag, but then, when he _had_ gagged, the intern mentioned food to him. Foooooood. And he could have danced her across the room.

"Sorry, dude," she said, "Probably chicken broth and jello to start with. I know you're dreaming about a chili burger or something, but that won't happen for a little while."

_Foooood_, he wrote. She laughed. "You're so cute," she said. He winked at her. She rolled her eyes, still smiling.

"I'll put in the order for dinner, and we can take the IV out once you keep some food down. Bet you're really happy about that."

_Do I dare to dream,_ he wrote.

"Dream the Impossible Dream," she said, before she left.

The nurses made a general fuss over him and seemed to hover when he had visitors. They had gum and hard candy for Marti when she came, all of them pointedly ignoring the fact that she wasn't even supposed to be there. They let Casey stay late. Today, they'd teased his dad about his "ladykiller" son and giggled over his "cute girlfriend" and Dad had yet to correct them. But then again, neither had Derek himself.

He'd had some time over this long, long weekend to think about it and was admitting to himself that he'd been brewing a really good crush on her for several months. That Karaoke night had only been one of the triggers.

That night had been his first night out since he and Kendra had finally broken up. Sam had dragged him to the diner to drown his sorrows in some cheeseburgers, chili fries and something the diner had billed as the single thickest, most chocolatey shake in the universe. Sam, to his credit had known nothing about the Karaoke machine.

They'd sat through Sheldon Schlepper mangling Savage Garden's "Truly, Madly, Deeply," with his Schlepperettes, in this case, Casey and Emily, providing clumsy harmonies and laughing even as he blew the lyrics again and again.

Then Ralph, thankfully not rocking those pleather pants for once, tried an almost competent version of Aerosmith's "Walk this Way." Almost being the operative word.

Then there had been the obligatory three giggling girls who tried to sing "I Will Survive."

"They're playing your song," Sam said. Then he started an active campaign to get Derek to go up.

"Weren't you the one who said that I should never inflict my voice on anyone?" Derek said.

"It's Karaoke," Sam said . "They're not looking for _good_ singers." Then Sam had had to stop and wipe off the bit of chili fry that had somehow ended up on his forehead.

When the hostess called Casey up, one guy tried to start a chorus of "Grubb-y, Grubb-y" but his girlfriend smacking him with a magazine put a decisive end to it, since no one joined in.

Derek thought she'd stomp off the stage in tears at that point, but she took the microphone and said "Classy," which echoed throughout the room. There was a quick smatter of giggles and then the music kicked in and Casey launched into her perky girl pop number with unCasey-like self assurance. He didn't see this side of her often, sometimes when she danced around the living room when she thought no one was looking, but this was amazing. Who knew the almighty power of a Karaoke machine? He suddenly felt like he couldn't look directly at her or his eyes would fall out of his head, and he'd have to spend the rest of his life holding them up to see things better.

Meanwhile the room was going crazy and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her dancing with some guy who had jumped onto the stage. He picked her up and spun her. Suddenly Derek wanted more chocolate.

At the end of the song, Sam finally caught Derek staring too intently at the fake marbling of the table as if it held the meaning of life.

"Der—" Sam said.

"What?" Derek said, his voice a little too high for his liking. He cleared his throat and tried it again. "What?"

"You look like you just got hit with the thunderbolt."

"The what now?" Derek said grinning.

"Don't you remember?" Sam said. "In _The Godfather,_ when Michael sees that girl on the mountain? Next thing you know, she's handing out those almond thingees at their Sicilian wedding?"

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asked. "First of all, that doesn't happen in real life, and if it does, she leaves you for a basketball player." Referring to Kendra was the only way he could think of to deflect Sam's line of questioning. "Besides," he continued, "I think I'm having a sugar rush." He shook his head to clear it and showed Sam some exaggerated shaking hands as he took another enthusiastic pull of his shake.

Sam never did let go of the idea that Derek was now crushing on Casey. He seemed to look for ways to drop hints about it around Casey, and that is what had ultimately led to their fight. That and the fact that Sam had called him a coward.

So now, lying in that uncomfortable adjustable bed with its noisy rustling sheets, his mind went to the idea again and again. He stared at the same page of his book, reading the same sentence for the fifteenth time and finally tossed it aside and picked up the notebook. Life was just too short.


	11. Chapter 11

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: This longest chapter ever has no official affiliation with LWD.

Chapter Eleven

Part One: Casey

She took the mix CD out of her bag and popped it into the CD player in the car. She both dreaded and wished for more surprises like the No Doubt song and she could put off listening to it no longer. Just the same, she resisted hitting the skip button on the CD player. Because she was driving, and she needed to take this slowly.

She deliberately took the scenic route to the hospital, going out of her way to stop at a strip mall to get to the dry cleaners before they closed so her mother wouldn't have to do it in the morning. Then she got a cup of coffee from the donut shop next to the cleaners and drank it in the car. She passed "New" and let out a breath in relief because the rest was coming. She heard some keyboards and the Cure's "Lovesong" popped up. This was followed by Dashboard Confessional's "This Ruined Puzzle." This was when she couldn't take it any more, so she put the coffee down and hit the skip button after all to reveal the next song: "Against All Odds"— the Postal Service version.

"What's he trying to do to me here," she muttered.

Next, Chester Bennington sang Motley Crue's "Home Sweet Home" as she pulled out of the strip mall's parking lot. Phantom Planet's "Always on My Mind," followed. She sang along to that one whenever she heard it. Derek had once threatened to drive into a ditch because Casey and Emily had been singing it off key while Derek drove them to school.

"I could plead mental anguish, and nobody would even give me a ticket!," he'd shouted over their hand claps. But he'd been too busy laughing at the time for them to take him even a little seriously.

She had to skip Jonny Lang's "Red Light" almost entirely because it never failed to reduce her to a blubbering mess, and Derek knew it. He followed that one with Jeff Buckley's "Everybody Here Wants You."

She pulled into the hospital parking lot as her favorite song started. The fact that Derek knew about her undying love for Jason Wade's version of "You Belong to Me," was enough to start the waterworks anew.

Derek was probably going to wonder what was keeping her, but it was his own damn fault because she was such a red-faced disaster. She shut off the engine after she ascertained that that was the last song, and dug herself out of the pile of accumulating tissues. She ducked into the ladies room in the hospital lobby and splashed her face quickly. She rubbed the hell out of it with a scratchy paper towel, and quickly slapped on some powder and lip gloss, not trusting herself with eyeliner. In her state of mind, she could so easily lose an eye.

Part Two: Derek.

His mother finally came. She swept in like she'd been afraid to miss him on his way out. He sat there calmly watching her flit over to him, then he gave her a bone-crushing hug, enjoying the feel of an IV-less arm. His dad had told him all about her airport ordeal, and the first question he asked her when she arrived was:

_So? Where's the spork?_

She looked pretty unnerved by his silence and his ongoing use of the notebook and that threw him off a bit. She stared at him, and he crossed his eyes at her. His joke died on arrival. He gestured to the wool coat she was wearing.

_New?_ He wrote.

"Yes, sweetie, thanks for noticing," she said. She ran a hand through her hair theatrically. He rolled his eyes.

_I like the hair, too, Mom...real subtle hint_, he wrote.

"Thanks" she said. "I wasn't sure if it was too over the top." He held his thumb and forefinger a few centimeters apart and she laughed. But then she turned serious again.

"This must be so awful for you, baby," she said.

_Nah,_ he wrote, _my standards aren't that high. Nurses are cute_. He drew a smiley face.

"Seriously," she said.

_I __am__ serious_, he wrote. _I ate lunch! And I get jello tonight_.

"You're avoiding the issue," she said. "Your dad does that too."

_I'm avoiding nothing_, he wrote. _What's to avoid?_

"What about after you get out of here?"

_School? Which sucks, but what can you do?_ He wrote. _Maybe I can milk a couple extra days off._

"Don't be obtuse," she said. _Obtuse?_ He thought.

_What's that mean? _He wrote.

"Don't play dumb," she said. "I want to know if you've given any thought about the future. How you're going to deal with this. I'd say hockey's out, for a start."

Derek took a breath. She'd been trying to get him to stop playing hockey since, well, he'd started playing hockey. She thought that this would finally do it, but she was nuts. And he did know what she was getting at. She had a pessimistic streak a mile wide, and she didn't think he was getting his voice back. Now, he'd felt that he'd spent enough time worrying about that and came to the conclusion that he no longer gave a shit. Besides, he was pretty sure some voice would come back. The doctors seemed pretty happy with his progress, anyway. He'd managed a squeak for the otolaryngologist back when they'd been testing for vocal cord paralysis. The doctors kept using the term "cautiously optimistic." That was good enough for him, at least for now. He was mostly worried about his voice being unreliable, being unable to yell, or having it give out on him continually. That was the more realistic possibility. And anyway, there was even a chance for a full recovery, but he didn't want to jinx it.

_You know better than that_, _Mom_, he wrote. There was not even a trace of humor on his face.

"Do you think that your father would agree with you?" she said. "Do you think he'd let you kill yourself next time?" She was playing the dad card. As if that would work. He wasn't too worried about his Dad.

_Not Dad's decision to make_, he wrote.

"You, sir, are sixteen," she replied, "it sure as hell isn't _your _decision to make."

_I guess we'll have to see about that_, he wrote. This was one of her go-to expressions and he couldn't help using it against her.

This was when Casey walked in.

"I know, I know, I'm late," Casey said, as she breezed in, completely oblivious to the situation. "Ohh and you're busy, maybe I'll get lost for a sec." And she turned on her heel and walked out.

Derek got off the bed and went after her, leaving his mother standing there. He grabbed Casey's arm from behind.

_Please come here_, he mouthed. He pulled her back into the room.

"Why," she said, "What's going on?"

"Hi," his mom said. "I'm Abby, and you are clearly Casey." She held out her hand for a limp, clammy shake.

"Hi," Casey said uncertainly, turning to look at Derek, who shrugged.

"I'm sorry, hon," his mom said. "I'm not gonna lie—we were just arguing. I've been trying to get him to see sense and give up hockey."

Casey immediately started to laugh. "Good luck," she said.

Casey sprouted wings and a halo in Derek's imagination. He practically heard the Hallelujah Chorus in the background. He wondered if he should bow down. His look of worship didn't go unnoticed by either of the women in the room. Casey blushed, but sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat beside her and gave her a shoulder nudge. She bumped him back. His mother looked from one to the other, puzzled.

"I guess it_ is_ a losing battle," his mother said. "Derek gets everything he wants, doesn't he?"

Derek chose to ignore the verbal bitch slap and just nodded as though it were a natural law. He looked at Casey waiting for what she'd say to that, and aside from a twitch of the mouth, she gave no reaction. She became interested in the linoleum.

"So," his mom said training her eyes on Casey. "What about you, hon? What do you do? What do you like? Tell me." His mother was so horrible at small talk.

"Um," Casey said. "Nothing special, I guess." Derek smacked himself in the forehead.

He wrote: _She gets straight As. Drama club. Dance classes. Yells at me. _

He handed it off to his mother, who read it out loud as if she were reading a shopping list before she answered.

"I enjoy yelling at him, too, as you can see," she said. "It's a sign of love, I guess. At least that's what I keep telling myself."

Casey continued to give her the deer in headlights treatment. He nudged her again.

"I don't know why we put up with it," Casey said.

"He's cute," his mother said. He grinned.

His mother gathered her stuff from the chair she'd flung it on, and said, "I guess I've tormented you enough for one night." Derek waved a hand at her to say that she wasn't that bad, even through she was.

"Fair warning though," she continued, "I am coming back tomorrow."

"George says the doctors are gonna release him tomorrow instead of Tuesday," Casey said.

"Yeah, George told me," his mother said. "I called his cell before."

"So, you'll come to the house?" Casey asked.

"Yeah, but don't worry, I won't stay long." She leaned in and kissed Derek on the cheek and he pecked her back. Then she left.

_Scary huh? _Derek wrote.

"No," Casey said. Derek gave her the eyebrow.

"Okay," she said. "Maybe a little."

Part Three: George.

"I did it again, George," Abby said to him over the phone.

"What'd you do?"

"Alienated our son," she said. "I come to see him in the hospital, and mind you, I haven't seen him in four months, and what do I do? I needle him. I push every button and I can't stop myself from doing it."

George sighed. "What did you say?"

"I tried to tell him that this injury was a sign that he should give up hockey."

George laughed for a good two minutes before he could begin to get himself under control.

"And how did he respond to that?" he asked.

"Burned a hole in my head using only his eyes," she said. "Then he said no in as many ways as he could think of. It was getting kinda nasty until Casey showed up. She's beautiful by the way."

"Looks like her mother," he said.

"Which leads me to a question," she began, "what's going on with the two of them?"

_Oh crap_, George thought. "Going on?" he avoided.

"You mean you haven't noticed anything?" she asked. "I just watched him look at her like she was made of angel food cake. I mean, how well do you know your kids, George?"

"Well enough," he said.

"Don't you think you should be keeping an eye on those two?"

George took a deep breath before answering. He would have been amused to know that Derek had done the exact same thing in the same way not half an hour before.

"Abby," he said. "Do you think that either of them are stupid? Our son is excellent. Completely brilliant. He hasn't figured that out yet, but he will. And Casey is right there with him. If we need to, Nora and I will have a talk with them."

"Have a talk?" Abby said. "I wouldn't think that such a thing would be up for discussion. Did you know about this? Do you condone it?"

"It's not a question of condoning it, Abby," he said. "It's not an ideal situation, but he's clearly been crazy about her since...probably since the wedding. He's denied it long enough. I can't really expect him to hold out any longer. Nora and I talked over the possibility over a year ago. Since then, we've just been waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop."

"What do you mean?"

"Neither one of them has made a move yet is what I mean," George said.

Part Four: Casey.

She was quickly chickening out again. She'd come with the specific purpose of having the discussion that they'd been unable to have so far. But Derek looked like he'd had enough interrogation for one day. It could wait one more day.

"So," she said. "You're getting out?"

He nodded, and grinned like nothing in the world could make him happier.

"I guess I have to surrender the remote then, huh?"

His smile widened and he wrote, _The car keys, too._

"So not happening," Casey said. He made a mock grab for her coat pocket and she fought him off, wiggling out of the coat in the process. She stood up tossed it into a chair.

"I might let you drive at some point," Casey said. "If you're good."

_When am I ever good?_ He wrote.

"My point exactly," she said, tucking the keys into her jeans pocket. "Be right back," she said, going into the bathroom. After she was done in there, she washed her hands, cursing the rough paper towels again, then messed with her hair for a minute.

"I hate that soap they have," she said as she came back.

_Puh-rincess_, he wrote.

"What," she said. "It's the middle of winter and we live in Canada; my hands have suffered enough."

He smirked. He really could get a lot of mileage out of that smirk.

"Anyway," she said, "Unlike you, I have school tomorrow. So that means that it's going to be past my bedtime when I get home."

_Stay home. Tell them you're traumatized, or something. You need to learn to milk opportunities when they come,_ he wrote.

"I'll never get away with it," she said. "But I'll see you tomorrow. With your homework, I'm guessing."

_Groan,_ he wrote.

"So, do I get a hug?" she asked, holding her arms out. He pulled her in.

_Oooh Squish_, she thought to herself. He was good at the hugging.

Later as she hung up her coat, she heard something crackle in it. She reached in and pulled out a piece of her lined note paper. 'Read me' it read. She ran upstairs with it.


	12. Chapter 12

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I am not a Canadian television writer. This means that I have no capacity on LWD. I'm a little sad about this, but I guess I'll live.

Chapter Twelve:

Part One: Casey

It was a pretty innocent looking piece of notebook paper, a little flower at each corner, and when she unfolded it, she found dense, spiky handwriting that she would know anywhere.

_Oh God, here it comes_, she thought.

_Casey,_ it read, _Only you could get something like this out of me. I'm about to be very mushy. Sorry about that. I'm not good at it. But I had to do this, literally could not wait another day, and since we never seem to have enough time alone for me to properly tell you any of this face to face, it had to be a pre written note, you know as opposed to a spontaneous one. And I can't wait for my voice to come back, either. I've wasted enough time. _

_Okay, out with it. I'm crazy about you. Wasn't it obvious?I've been in constant fear that it was obvious and that there was no way you'd ever buy what I was selling. I'm still terrified that you're going to think that I'm your creepy stepbrother who needs to be let down easy, or prohibited by law from coming within a hundred feet of you. One of those. _

_But somehow I don't think that you're creeped out. Scared, maybe, and that's normal but I'm noticing that half this hospital thinks we're together, and nobody has corrected them. So it can't just be me. _

_Sam's been bugging me for months. Since that Karaoke night at the diner, if you want to know the truth. When you sang, he said I looked like I was hit with the Thunderbolt...remember the Godfather, with Michael Corleone and the Sicilian girl and how he lost his mind the second he saw her? Like that. I wanted to grab you off the stage and bend you over a table or something and kiss you until your brains leaked out of your ears. And you know Sam. He could see it on my face. I can't get much by you,but I can get even less by Sam. He wanted me to tell you how I felt. And he knows how to push my buttons. We actually had that fight on Friday because he called me a coward, and of course he was right, and I was a little sick of him being right, so I shoved him into a locker. Had this whole accident with the puck not happened, he would have just given me a run of the mill ass-kicking, and a well deserved one at that. _

_So this is my attempt at telling you what I should probably have told you months ago. Everything on the table. You know every song on the radio and I pretend that it drives me crazy that you always seem to be singing along, but you must have noticed that I never turn the radio off. When it's your turn to cook dinner, I eat tofu almost uncomplainingly, because I know how you can't stand handling raw meat. I eat tofu for you. Believe me, it's love. I love you. I wish I'd studied more poetry in school because I could really use a good poetic line here, but I got nothing. So I'll just have to keep it simple: I love you. _

_Now here's where I need to ask you formally if you would consider dating me. Would you? Knowing you, you're stressing about whether or not it could possibly work out, and I don't know if it will either, but I think that it could be worth a try. It could be the best thing that we ever do, or it could be a complete disaster. Even if it's a mistake, it'll be worth it._

_D._

Part Two: Nora

There was crying coming from Casey's room. Nora poked her head in and saw the girl sitting on the floor in front of her bed, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was from. Casey, in her state, had no grip to speak of, so Nora took the paper from her easily.

She scanned it to get the gist, but even with her quick read, she couldn't help but be struck by how Derek was his father's son: sweet, warm, loving, excellent, and completely unpoetic. And Casey, being Nora's daughter was eating it up.

Nora sat down next to Casey on the floor, putting an arm around her to pull her closer. She let her daughter cry it out, and when Casey got to the sniffling stage, Nora asked the all-important question.

"So," she said. "What do you think?"

"I guess, I have to tell him no, don't I?"

"Why's that?" Nora asked.

"Don't you think it's a bad idea?"

"Who cares what I think?" Nora said. "What do _you_ think? You can't go through life worrying about what will make everyone else happy, Casey. This is your decision. You two deserve to be happy, don't you?"

"It's not just about us though," Casey said. "There are five other people in this house who have to put up with us."

"Never stopped you before," Nora said. "And if you think none of us saw this coming..."

"You did?"

"We did."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"It's not our fault that you're slow," Nora said. "We figured you'd catch on eventually."

"But what do you think of this, Mom?" Casey asked. "I really want to know."

"I think it's inconvenient; it's not ideal, but we trust you," Nora said.

Nora knew that Casey would continue to dither for a while, and it was best to just ride it out. Casey started several sentences but lost her nerve before she could form any more arguments against starting a relationship with Derek. Finally, Nora said, "We both know that you're crazy about him, Casey. Be honest with yourself. Can you do that?"

"Uh huh," Casey said.

"Good," Nora said. "Now, what are you gonna tell him?"

"I'm gonna tell him he's paying on our first date?"

"Okay," Nora said. "I'll go tell George to raise his allowance."

A/N: Short chapter, but I didn't want you guys to hang any longer. There's more to come, obviously, so keep your eyes open for it. :-)


	13. Chapter 13

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I clearly do not own Life With Derek.

Chapter Thirteen

Part One: Derek

The doctor had a teeny tiny camera down Derek's throat and she was trying to get him to look at the monitor to see video of his own throat. That was so not going to happen. He kept his eyes averted until she gave up, laughing.

_I am so glad you think this is funny_, Derek wrote after they took the scope out.

"Sorry, I just can't help noticing that it's always the men who get squeamish," she said. "Anyway, you seem to be doing pretty well so far, but we're going to be keeping you on voice rest for a while. I'd say another week to start with, then we check you again. And hockey, for obvious reasons, is out until we clear you. No strenuous activities; no spicy food yet, and if there is any new pain, any trouble swallowing, basically anything out of the ordinary, you come back here, is that clear?" She asked

_Define strenuous activities_, Derek wrote.

"No sports, no running, no lifting weights. I'd say no sex, but I doubt you're going to be much in the mood since that catheter, yes? Actually, let me amend that, no sex. I forgot for a second that I was talking to a teenage boy. I would even avoid too much kissing for a little while because even that can cause a little bit of strain. I won't say no kissing because again, I am talking to a teenage boy. And I would try not to laugh too much if at all possible. Those enough rules for you?"

_How do you not laugh if you want to laugh?_ Derek wrote.

"That's why I don't say _no_ laughing," she said. "If you must laugh, you do it quietly. God forbid you have one of those screamy laughs. You don't do you?"

He shook his head. She went on to go over a list of accepted foods and reminded him that everything needed to go into the blender for a few more days, and again reminded him to report anything unusual.

"Any questions?"

_Will I be able to sing?_ He wrote.

"I wouldn't rule out the possibility," she said.

_Couldn't carry a tune in a bucket before_, he wrote. She groaned.

"Why do I always fall for that type of thing?" she said.

Part Two: Casey

She came down to breakfast a little late, having managed to miss the chance to take the first shower even though the one who usually beat her to the bathroom wasn't there. She saw everyone else, except Derek of course, scarfing breakfast, guzzling coffee and generally causing an almost normal level of morning chaos. She poured some cereal, milked it and took it to the table.

"I was gonna come get you in another minute," Nora said.

"Yeah," Casey said. "Long night. I had lots of reading to do."

George's mouth twitched. He covered by taking a sip of his coffee, then looking at his watch. Marti, it's the Davis's turn to drive you today."

"But Dimi hogs the seat," she said. "He's a doofus."But she brought her bowl to the sink. "Bus is coming guys," he said to Edwin and Lizzie. They took last guzzles of juice and last quick bites of cereal, all three got kisses from Nora, grabbed their stuff, and went out the door. Casey tried to follow, but George grabbed her arm.

"We were thinking, maybe you could play hookey today," he said.

"Hookey?" Casey said.

"Well," Nora said, "More like an excused absence. You should go and pick up Derek's stuff. His keys, cell phone, books..."

"Leather jacket," George said.

"Yeah, we don't want to forget that do we?" Nora said.

"Thank God we have unlimited texting," George said. "He hasn't used a phone all weekend."

"And we thought," Nora said, "that you could drive him home from the hospital. We'll follow in the station wagon. Then George has to go in to work for a while, but I'll be home today."

Casey didn't have much to say to all that. "Um...'kay." she replied.

"So, I'm gonna go call the school now, "George said; he pointed to her cereal. "Eat."

_Eat?_ She thought.

It was three excruciating hours before they could go get him. Casey went to the school to pick up all of Derek's stuff. She timed it so that she went in during first period, so she didn't have to deal with too many people. She wasn't in the mood to deal with people.

Paul, however, was waiting at the main office. He marched her down the hall to his office and sat her down. "Just for a minute or three," he said.

"So?" he asked. "How you holding up?"

"I'm okay," she said. It was an understatement. "Leave it to Derek, though, to supply drama. He had to get a big dramatic injury, but what can you do?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said. "We were all scared; I mean, this was one long weekend, but they're letting him out of the hospital in roughly two hours which is why I'm not staying, because the folks want me to help out just for today," she lied, "but otherwise all's more or less okay." She paused and looked at Paul for a second.

"You think I'm in denial, don't you, Paul?"

"What do you think?"

"I can definitely unequivocally say that I am in no way in denial of anything."She said this with a straight face.

"If you say so," he said. "See you at the regular time on Thursday?"

"Yep," she said.

"And I want to remind you that if there's anything—"

"I know," she said, and got up and left. She went back to the office to ask for someone to let her into Derek's locker. For once, no one was sarcastic to her. It was unnerving.

"Okay dear," the secretary said. "have a seat and Mr. Lassiter will be right out with the master key."

It took a near death experience to get a straight answer out of this woman. Who knew?

So the principal, who for once called her by the right name, took her to the empty boys locker room where she got the clothes Derek had been wearing Friday. He then led her to the main hall where he watched her pick through the sticky mess that was Derek's locker. There was something on the bottom shelf that she hoped was jelly. She pulled out his messenger bag and threw books in wholesale, topping it off with his cell phone, and keys. She threw the jacket over one arm and heaved the bag over the other shoulder. The canvas strap of the bag dug into her shoulder and she headed lopsidedly to the door, thanking the principal on the way out.

She got back to the car, noticing that it was entirely too early to do much. She went to the video store and walked the aisles, seeing nothing that she thought that Derek would like, except maybe for _The Mighty Ducks_ or that one with the hockey playing chimp and she had to draw the line somewhere. She knew that she had to rent an action movie, but she usually fell asleep on those. After ten minutes she felt eyes on her, and the more time she took the more nervous she got. The more nervous she got, the less able to make a decision. She finally put out a hand and grabbed _The Prestige_ at random. Then she walked up the aisle and did it again. She went to the counter with the DVD and checked out, avoiding eye contact with the clerk the whole time.

She got a hot chocolate from the donut place and forced herself to sit at a table and drink it. After that, she decided that she'd waited long enough and headed to the hospital. Her mother had been waiting in the lobby with George for about an hour.

"What took you so long, honey?" her mother said.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm just an idiot."

"Ready to go up now?" her mother said.

"Will they let us?" Casey said.

"Yeah, because checkout is right around the time that visiting hours start, so we need to get him ready to go before then," George said.

"I knew that," Casey said.

Part Three: Derek

As much as he tried to hide it, Derek didn't handle nervousness well. He usually threw up, but since he hadn't eaten much for breakfast that wouldn't be a problem. He paced until a 5'0" nurse bullied him back into bed.

He was such an idiot. One of his dad's pet phrases had to do with not asking questions to which you don't know the answer. He thought he knew the answer, but he tended to be wrong about stuff. He didn't know what possessed him to make such a stupid, ill-advised move on his stepsister. Of course she's going to say no, and she'll say it with a certain amount of pity, too. If only the doctors were still giving him the heavy duty stuff.

Eventually Nora popped up and started to gather his assortment of CDs and paperbacks "So that's where Rachael Ray went," she said. She was followed shortly after by his dad and Casey.

He couldn't read Casey's expression at all, and she was usually so predictable. She stood by the door, playing with the zipper on her coat.

Finally, an orderly came in with a wheelchair and ordered Derek into it. Because this day wasn't awkward enough. He plopped ungracefully into it and was wheeled toward the elevators. There was a wait, and everyone kept looking from one elevator to the other to see which arrow was going to light up first. His dad kept hitting the down button to make it come faster. With the other hand, he tapped their copy of Derek's paperwork against his leg.

Finally there was a ding and Derek was quickly and roughly wheeled into the empty elevator. He turned around and noticed Casey was the pusher. The doors closed right behind them. It was a miracle.

She leaned against one side, breathing hard with a hand over her heart. "Thought it would never come," she said.

He realized he didn't have the notebook with him, so he just gave her his "puzzled" face.

"This is one ugly ass elevator, but it'll have to do," she said.

He raised eyebrows at her. She crouched down and kissed him quickly.

"Don't look at me like you didn't know that was coming," she said. All articulate thought left him.

The doors opened and she pushed him out. They waited for Nora and his dad to come down in the other elevator, Casey's fingers trailing up and down the back of his neck the whole time. She knew a hot spot when she saw it, apparently.

She leaned in and whispered in his ear: "Too bad, you're not into the PDA."

_Hell with it_, he thought and pulled her head down to his again.

A/N: I know, I know, took me long enough, but it was worth it, I hope.


	14. Chapter 14

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with LWD or any of its producers, writers, etc.

Chapter Fourteen

Part One: George

The doors opened directly on Derek and Casey.

"Oh God," Nora said, shaking her head and covering her face to hide the smile that was spreading despite her best efforts.

"We are never sleeping again," George muttered. "I am locking both bedroom doors and—"

"Georgie, don't be a moment killer," Nora said as she pulled George out of the way of the closing doors.

"Don't let us interrupt you," George said. Casey jumped. Derek had the most glazed, brainless expression on his face. It would be a lot of fun to recall it later and imitate it for Marti, Lizzie and Edwin, but now George had lecturing to do.

"If I remember correctly, Derek," George began, "there's a list of things that you are not supposed to be doing yet. Kissing was on the list, was it not?"

"Wait a minute," Casey said. "You're not supposed to be kissing?" She hit him on the arm. "You let me kiss you knowing full well that it's bad for you?"

Derek looked at her like he didn't see her point. George had to bite his tongue.

"Der-_ek_," she yelped, "I can't believe you'd do such a thing! Do you ever—"

"Take a breath, Casey," Nora said. Derek put one hand on Casey's arm and gestured for something to write with with the other.

_The doctor didn't say no kissing. She said not to go crazy on the kissing. She knew better than to say no kissing, _Derek wrote after Nora dug out his notebook.

"Are you sure?" Casey asked. Derek nodded.

"I don't believe you," she said. He threw his hands up in defeat.

"Actually that _is_ what the doc said, Casey,"George said. "I just wanted to remind Derek of the importance of doctors' orders, but then I realized that it would be easier to have _you_ do it."

Casey took a second to take that in, and said "Are you saying that I nag, George?"

"Uh-huh," George said.

"Mom!"

"Look at it this way, Casey," Nora said. "It's your prerogative as a girlfriend."

"Well, if you put it that way," Casey said.

_HEY!!!_ Derek wrote and waved the notebook over his head. Casey grinned at him evilly and left to get the car.

"You have no rights, son "George said, starting to wheel him out. "You really should've figured that out by now."

Derek looked at Nora, who nodded in confirmation. "Best to surrender to the inevitable,"she said. She'd been holding Der Bear all this time and she handed it over to him. He clutched the bear in mock fear.

The second the wheelchair hit sidewalk, Derek hopped out of it. He stretched luxuriously, as if he hadn't walked in a week. A nurse on his way back from a smoke break took the wheelchair from George, who nodded a quick thanks.

Casey pulled up in the car and said "I don't have all day, Derek."

As Derek was climbing into the car, he cracked an imaginary whip.

"You better believe it," Casey said, smiling.

Part Two: Lizzie.

Lizzie and Edwin hopped off the bus and ran to the house. Edwin stopped himself on the porch, and put an arm out to restrain Lizzie.

"We need to be cool about this," he said. She rolled her eyes.

"Out of my way, Venturi," Lizzie said. "It's cold out here, warm in there. I see no reason to be out here." She pushed past him.

Lizzie walked into the house and passed Casey on the couch, tossing vague "Hey" over her shoulder as she made her way to the kitchen. She found Derek leaning against the island drinking something thick and green.

"'Sup," Lizzie said on her way to the fridge. He stuck his green tongue out at her, and stared at her until she broke into giggles and went over to hug him. He made a show of allowing it, but squeezed hell out of her.

"Do I want to know what you're drinking?" Lizzie asked. He handed it to her and she took a wary sniff and wrinkled her nose. "Spinach," she said, "and...fruit of some kind, and what is that...grass?"

_Probably_, he wrote. _I didn't ask_._ Didn't wanna know_. He drank the last of it, looking at the green film on the glass in disgust. He rinsed it out in the sink.

When he came back, he wrote, _Excellent fake out by the way. _

"I know," she said.

Edwin was waiting in the doorway, and Derek and Lizzie seemed to notice him at the same time. He was being a sap, standing there like he was afraid to move into the actual kitchen.

"Way to be cool, Edwin," Lizzie said. That seemed to break the spell.

"Does this mean I don't get your room?" Edwin said. Derek pointed at him as menacingly as he could manage. This usually sent Edwin running to hide behind the nearest large object, but Derek was too busy trying not to laugh that he didn't quite pull off menacing.

Then Edwin went in for his hug.

Part Three: Edwin

Edwin decided to enjoy this mellow, non-noogying Derek for as long as he hung around. He was in a surprisingly good mood. They probably still had him on some nice drugs.

Marti, who Edwin and Lizzie knew had not slept too well all weekend, attached herself to Derek's leg as soon as she got home, eventually falling asleep on top of him on the couch. Derek himself didn't take long to fall asleep on top of Casey, who struggled in vain to read her book with the combined weight of the two of them on her. Nora got at least two pictures of this, both with Casey rolling her eyes. Nora gave Lizzie the memory card and she ran to save them on the computer.

After an hour or so, his dad came home, took a couple of minutes to admire the stack of kids on the couch until Lizzie said that Nora's gotten pictures.

"Cool," George said. "We have our Christmas card."

Casey gave a little snort of disgust, then said, "George? Little help here?" She gestured at Derek and Marti. Dad scooped Marti up, which woke up Derek for about a second. He stretched and finally got off of Casey who promptly got out of the way before Derek leaned over again. He looked up briefly like he was wondering where his pillow went, but then he went right out.

Edwin saw Derek wake to the sound of the blender, like a kitten at the sound of a can opener. He sat down to dinner with the rest of them and drank a much nicer looking smoothie while they ate an omelet that Nora whipped up using leftover spaghetti. It looked weird, but tasted pretty good, so Edwin decided to shelve the 'I'll have what he's having' line that popped into his head when he saw the food.

It was Edwin's turn the do the dishes, so he knew something was up when his dad shooed him and Lizzie out of the kitchen and told them to watch TV with Marti and Casey, while Derek stayed at the table.

"A little surveillance is in order," Lizzie said as she waved him over to the doorway to eavesdrop with her.

"Subtle, guys," Casey said from the couch.

Part Four: George.

All day, he'd been planning what he was about to say. He planned and revised it like he would for a jury. His officemate had seen him visibly rehearsing and had laughed at him for about ten minutes.

He took too long to get started and Derek started to squirm.

"Quit it," George said, sitting down at the table so that he was eye to eye with his oldest son.

"I had a talk with Jerry Davis the other day, to thank them all for taking Marti Friday night. Nora sent me over with a cake," George began. "So we sat there, eating the cake, Jerry and I, and we got to talking about you."

"Now you know that he's never been too crazy about you, and he's had some reasons, as you know. But the real reason had nothing to do with you crushing their peonies, or swimming in their pool. No, his real reason, he said, was that he has a beautiful teenage daughter, and as such, he hates all teenage boys. So you, being a teenage boy are persona non grata. Needless to say, this was pretty funny until Jerry reminded me that I had not one beautiful daughter but three. And that two of them are teenagers. So I have one beautiful teenage step-daughter and one teenage son who are apparently crazy about each other. Which puts me in an awkward position."

Derek knew not to so much as blink during this monologue. He'd trained his son well.

"So," he continued, "I'm going to talk to you seriously here. We've already had this talk, but circumstances change when you share a bathroom and an adjoining wall with the object of your affection. I don't think that either of you are stupid, but I remember what it was like to be sixteen. It wasn't that long ago despite what you might think. And what I remember the most is how my brains tended to fall down on the job here and there. This is what I'm afraid of. I'm thinking in terms of reality, here. I trust you and I trust Casey, and Nora and I will be there for the both of you no matter what, but I can't stress enough the importance of using your common sense. Now I do not endorse the idea of sex of any kind, but again, I'm not an idiot, and I want to make sure that you two are always safe." He pulled out a bag from the drugstore and watched color drain from his son's face.

"That's pretty much the reaction I expected," George said. "But I believe that you'll do anything for Casey. Am I right in assuming this?" Derek nodded. "So you will be responsible, right?" Another nod.

"I'm glad," George said, handing the bag of condoms to Derek.

"Now," George continued, "I think that you and Casey, mostly Casey, have some explaining to do to the others, yes?" He beckoned to Derek to follow him to the living room. George collided with Edwin on the way.

George took a split second to figure out what Edwin and Lizzie were up to, and he was ticked, but he'd deal with them later.

"Sit," he said to the three of them. "Casey?" he said.

"George?" Casey said.

"You're up," he said. Nora came up behind him and slipped an arm around his waist, leaning her chin on his shoulder. Her timing could only mean that she'd been eavesdropping too.

"Guys," Casey said, her voice wavering like a sheep's. "Um, this is going to be extremely weird but..."

"You and Derek," Lizzie said. "We know."

"I know," Casey said. "Cuz you were listening, but we need to talk about how you guys feel about it."

"You should kiss," Marti said. Derek stifled a laugh. Casey colored.

"We've...done enough of that for one day," she said. Edwin wrinkled his nose.

"TMI," he said.

"You Venturis and your acronyms," Casey said. "What's TMI mean?"

"Too much information," Lizzie said. "Get with the program, Case."

"Anyway," Casey said. "We just need to talk about how this affects everybody."

"Why?" Edwin asked.

"What?"

"Why do you think this has to be so dramatic?" Edwin asked. "We're obviously okay with it. We probably knew about it before you did. As did Dad and Nora."

George felt Nora nod into his shoulder.

"I guess I'll just sit down then," Casey said.

Part Five: Derek.

An hour or so after Casey's abortive attempt at her speech, the doorbell rang. Derek got it and opened the door on his mother. He waved her in. This was inevitable.

"I come in peace" she said. She turned to Casey, who was alone at the couch. "Can I talk to the both of you?"

"Okay," Casey said uncertainly, patting a spot on the couch next to her. Derek sat down on Casey's other side.

His mother got right down to business. "I wanted to apologize to both of you."

"Huh?" Casey said.

"Because, well, I have a tendency to be a little judgmental and neither of you deserve it. I think that I underestimated the both of you. I had a long talk with your father last night, Derek, and he reminded me of that."

Casey said nothing, continued to look confused. Derek let her go on.

"I'm afraid that I made a horrible first impression on you, Casey," she continued. "I came off like a dragon lady, and I knew it, but I was unable to stop myself. Since you are very important to my family, I don't want to alienate you."

"I honestly didn't think you were that bad," Casey started.

"You looked at me like a chicken looks at a bucket," his mother said. "And I just interrupted you, I'm sorry."

"No big," Casey said. "I was just going to say that I was having kind of a shaky weekend, for obvious reasons, so I think I had that look on my face the whole time."

Derek nodded.

"All the same, I didn't help things," his mother said.

All of this apologizing was making Casey more nervous, Derek could tell. He put an arm around her.

"That reminds me," his mother said, gesturing at the two of them. "Do you have something to tell me?"

"Well, um," Casey said. Derek went for the almighty notebook.

"Don't bother, hon," his mother said. "You've obviously finally made your move."

"Huh," Casey squeaked, "How could you possibly—"

His mother was smiling. "You kids are so obvious." Casey hid her face.

"I'll be honest," his mother continued. "It's weird. I am thoroughly weirded out by this, but your father gave me a piece of his mind when I said as much to him last night. And I decided that he was right, and that I need to trust the two of you, and even if I didn't trust you, there would be no stopping you."

_Wow,_ Derek thought. _Good_, he wrote.

"So," his mother said. "That's about it."

_You're not happy about any of this_, Derek wrote. Casey blatantly peeked at the page before he handed it off.

"You're right," his mother said. "But that's not your problem."

_I know, but I'm sorry you're unhappy,_ he wrote.

"I'll get over it," she said. "It's nothing personal, Casey, honey. For the record, I liked you immediately. This is just weird."

"It is," Casey agreed. Derek nodded.

"Well, I'm going to go bug your brother and your sister for a bit, then I will be on my way, Puppy."

"Puppy?" Casey said. Derek shot her a dirty look.

"Puppy," his mother agreed. "I'm just gonna..." she gestured to the stairs and Derek waved her away in exasperation. She just had to play the puppy card. Why would anyone want to give Casey that kind of ammo?

"Puppy," Casey said as Derek's mother went upstairs. She really wasn't going to let him hear the end of it.


	15. Chapter 15

How to Fall Head over Heels

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I don't own LWD. They don't even have DVDs available, I don't think.

Chapter Fifteen:

Part One: George.

George had meetings the next day that he could put off no longer and Nora had a presentation, so they'd had to have a conversation about who was staying with Derek. The obvious choice had been Casey, but then Edwin, who'd yet again overheard the conversation, volunteered.

"Do you have a test tomorrow, Edwin?" George asked. He was kidding, but lately Edwin seemed to have no sense of humor.

"Fine, Dad, forget I said anything," Edwin said, turning to leave.

Nora shot George a look that said he'd better find a nice doghouse for the night and went after Edwin.

She dragged him back in and sat him down.

"George?" Nora said. He knew what was expected of him.

"I'm sorry about that, Edwin," George said. It occurred to him that he's been doing an awful lot of apologizing, especially to Edwin over the past few days. "That was really only meant to be a joke, and it fell flat."

"It's actually great of you to want to take care of your brother," Nora said. "I know that you wouldn't go into this lightly. It's going to be a challenge."

"I figure Derek's due to turn cranky any minute now," George said.

"Any minute now," Nora agreed. "I'm surprised that he's held out this long."

"He will be bored, and he will be frustrated, and he will probably take it out on you."

"And this will be different how?" Edwin said.

"It'll be on a grander scale," George said.

"So you don't want me to do it?" Edwin asked.

"I want you to make an informed decision," George said. "You will be assuming some great risk here, and I want you to be ready for it."

Edwin said nothing, continued to stare George down.

"We just want to make sure that you really want to sign up for this," Nora said.

"Do you talk to Casey this way?"

"No," George said. "On Friday, I flat out told Casey to go home. You know how well that worked out." He chose the next few words very carefully, "I know what a mistake it was on my part when we didn't tell you what was going on, and I don't want to do that again. It's not that I don't believe in you, Edwin; it's just that I don't want to put you through anything that you shouldn't have to go through."

"But you were going to have Casey do it," Edwin said. "Doesn't she deserve a break by now?"

"Okay, Edwin," George said. "Here's what you have to do." Then he rattled off a list of things including keeping an eye on the medication and making sure Derek takes it, staying in the bathroom when he showers to make sure he doesn't fall, and making those godawful smoothies. Edwin grabbed a sticky note and wrote all of it down. He really had some good kids.

Part Two: Edwin

The next day Edwin's father tried to talk him out of it again, and this time he almost gave in because the reality of having to babysit someone who didn't want to be babysat hit him. This was going to be one long day.

Derek was arguing with their dad when Edwin came down for breakfast. As well as he could argue anyway. His dad was saying things like "Of course I don't think that, Derek," and "Just humor me, okay, son?" Until finally, his dad had had enough and told Derek to shut up, which was probably the worst thing that he could possibly have said and only Marti's crying and running out of the room could defuse the both of them.

So Derek went after Marti. He tried to get in her way, but she said "No, I'm mad at you!" and took off in the other direction. She collided with Lizzie, who was eventually able to calm her down, but meanwhile there was Derek, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. It was only about 7:45am. Edwin had at least seven hours to go before he could relax.

"Hey," Edwin said, sitting on the very edge of the couch, as if it would bite him. Derek shot him a warning look from under his hands. "Okay," Edwin said, as he got up again.

When he got back to the kitchen, Casey wanted to give him a pep talk, but she'd never given one before, so she proved to be really bad at it.

"You can always bribe him," she said. "And you have all our cell numbers if that doesn't work." Then she paused. "Kidding!" she said.

"You can do it," Lizzie said as she left with Marti.

His dad went into the living room, presumably to apologize and came back after a couple of minutes, looking no happier.

"I'll call," he said. "A lot."

"Thanks for the warning," Edwin said.

"Me too," Nora said kissing him on the forehead before she barreled out the door.

"Ditto," Edwin said.

Finally Casey went into the living room and after pecking Derek on the mouth three or four times, promising to text him at lunch, left.

"Are you sure, Edwin?" Dad said.

"DAD," Edwin said.

"Okay!" his father said, and finally left. Edwin half wanted to shove a chair under the doorknob.

He went into the living room. No Derek. He sighed.

"Derek!" he said. "Come _on_."

He found Derek in his room, sprawled across the bed and staring at the ceiling.

"So, listen," Edwin said. Then he couldn't think of anything else to say. Derek stared at him. He racked his brain trying to think of something. Then...inspiration.

"How bout we crack open your R rated movie drawer?"

Derek didn't bother to ask how Edwin knew about that. He opened the drawer, moved a few t-shirts and let Edwin pick. He pulled out Clerks and Clerks 2.

"How bout we get the whole shower thing over with?" Edwin said.

Part Three: Derek

Damn kid was going to follow him into the bathroom. He had really hoped he'd seen the end of that when they let him out of the hospital. What exactly did they think was going to happen? It wasn't like he'd had a head injury, at least he'd understand if they freaked about that.

The whole time Derek was in the shower, Edwin sat perched on the closed toilet lid with a magazine.

"Hope you're not beating off in there," Edwin said.

Derek poked his soapy head out from behind the curtain and gave him a dirty look and flipped him off, but he feared that he wasn't exactly the most intimidating figure when he had shampoo spikes in his hair.

He managed to lock Edwin out of his room while he got dressed but since Edwin wouldn't stop pounding on the door and threatening to call for backup, it was a hollow victory. He let him back in.

"Please don't do that again, okay?" Edwin said. "I don't wanna be watching you any more than you wanna be watched."

_So go to school_, Derek wrote.

"Someone needs to be here, Derek," Edwin says. "They're afraid that you'll choke or fall or something, and you won't be able to get help."

_They just think I'm stupid_, Derek wrote.

"That too," Edwin said. Derek couldn't believe Edwin said that, and when he saw Edwin grin at him, he flipped him off again.

_I'm being serious_, Derek wrote.

"Listen, they treat us all like babies when we get sick or hurt," Edwin said. "It's what parents do. We just need to ride it out. Can't be for much longer, okay?"

_Wish I knew how much longer_, Derek wrote. _I almost wish I could go to school._

"Now that's just crazy talk," Edwin put a hand on Derek's forehead. "This has to be a complication." He smiled in spite of himself and slapped Edwin's hand away.

"But you're still very capable of senseless violence, so that's a good sign."Edwin said. Derek ruffled Edwin's hair. They took the movies downstairs.

Derek could not have been less interested in the movies if they'd had Colin Firth in them. Edwin was enjoying himself, though. Who knew it took so little to make him happy? His little brother was just a simple creature.

"You're not into this," Edwin said. Derek shook his head. "I would ask what you want to do, but you can't do most of it yet."

_And what do you know about what I want to do?_ Derek wrote.

"You want to eat something crunchy and spicy that hasn't been in a blender, you want to properly make out with Casey, " at this Edwin shuddered a bit, "you want to play hockey, and insult me like you would any normal day. Have I left anything out?"

Derek shook his head.

"You're really a simple creature, Derek." Edwin braced for a head smack that didn't come. "What, no more senseless violence?"

_Nah,_ Derek wrote, _you might yell at me. I heard what you did to Dad. _

"I'm still probably gonna get it for that."

_You get one freebie_, Derek wrote, _Mine was during the divorce when I went off on both of them. Casey's was when she yelled at Nora for forgetting you and Lizzie at school. Enjoy it. It won't last._

"Guess not."

_Marti's all mad at me, _Derek wrote_, I really hate that. _

"She'll make you apologize and squirm a little and then all will be well."

_It's that easy?_ He wrote.

"Yeah," Edwin said. "It's not the first time you've pissed her off."

_I'm bored_.

"Yep," Edwin said. "You could try learning another chord on the guitar while the neighbors are all at work."

_There are more than three?_ Derek wrote.

"It might impress Casey," Edwin said. Derek smirked.

"We can look up some guitar tabs online, and maybe you learn a new song by the time you go back to school?"

_Waste of time_, Derek wrote, _I am no musician._

"Never stopped you before," Edwin said. "Anyway, we have nothing better to do, except for homework."

So next thing Derek knew, he was going online. He hadn't been on the computer in days. He had 97 emails, and 32 away messages waiting, but he wasn't in the mood to check them. He was busy Googling guitar tabs and printing them out. He picked a handful of Casey-esque stuff: Coldspray, the slower White Stripes stuff, Evanescence.

"You're so whipped," Edwin said when he saw the stuff Derek was printing. Derek minimized the web page and typed: _When you get a girlfriend you'll understand. _

The printouts looked like total gibberish to Edwin, but Derek seemed to understand them. It was slow going, but by lunch, Derek could play an almost recognizable opening to a Coldspray's "Oh Doctor."

For lunch, Edwin made himself a can of chicken n stars and put some of the green stuff in the blender with some ice. He tasted it; it wasn't bad, but he wouldn't want a steady diet of it.

Derek sat at the table texting something to Casey. Edwin looked over his shoulder.

"I am not a tyrant!" he said. "Stop telling Casey I made you clean the kitchen; she'd never believe it anyway."

The phone bleeped a return message: _Dnt make Edwn yell at U._

"Oh great, Thanks, Casey." Edwin said.

_Ed sez 10q_, Derek sent.

_Em Sam n Schlep say hi_, Casey said. _They Miss U. Me2._

_Miss them, even Schlep,_ Derek sent.

_Maybe they visit L8R :-)_ Casey sent.

_K_, Derek sent.

_Ttfn and kiss._ Casey sent.

So Derek was in a way better mood suddenly.

Part Four: Casey.

Earlier.

"You did_ not_ call me," Emily said from behind Casey. She was at her locker, and it made her drop her pad lock.

"No, I didn't" Casey said. "Sorry."

"Yeah, whatever, I want details," Emily said. "Did you tell him?"

"He told me."

"He got his voice back already?"

"Nope," Casey said. "He wrote me a long note and slipped it into my coat pocket when I wasn't looking."

Emily squealed. Glass shattered somewhere in Norway, and dogs in China looked up from licking themselves. She belatedly put a hand over her mouth. People turned to stare for a second then went back to gathering books.

"So you're not mad?"

"Depressed a little, maybe, but not mad," Emily said. "I'll live." She leaned against a locker and put a hand to her forehead like a heroine in a silent movie.

"As long as you're not being dramatic about it," Casey said.

"But how did your parents take it?"

"George gave him the talk," Casey said. She couldn't bring herself to mention the condoms. "Mom gave me a speech about how I should do what makes me happy, the next day, so as we were leaving the hospital, I pushed Derek into an empty elevator and kissed him."

Casey put a hand over Emily's mouth before she could squeal again. The sound was like trying to stuff a mouse into a matchbox.

"An elevator?" said a voice behind them. Both girls jumped.

"Yeah, I should be used to that reaction by now," Sheldon said. Then he seemed to remember what Casey said. "An elevator??? You saucy minx, you!" Casey felt her face get hot and she decided that it wanted to be covered.

"So your family's okay?" Emily said.

"His mom's not too happy, but I guess you can't win em all," Casey said. "Marti was cute. She goes 'You should kiss.' She barely looked up from the TV."

"So you met Abby, then," Emily said.

"Yeah, she looks like an older, scarier Marti," Casey said. "Derek stood up to her a whole bunch of times. It was like the Cuban Missile Crisis. I wanted to crawl under the coffee table to avoid getting caught in the mushroom cloud."

"But you're still here," Emily said.

"Not glowing in the dark or anything," Sheldon said.

"Maybe glowing a little," Emily said.

"But in a good way," Sheldon said.

"Do you always do that?" Casey said.

"What?" Emily and Sheldon said.

"Finish each other's sentences?"

"What do you mean?" Emily said. She looked at Sheldon and he shrugged.

The warning bell rang and they all scattered.

Sam was in her English class, and, thankfully, he was in class in his usual spot. She sat in the chair in front of him for a second.

"How you doing?" she said. He looked up.

"Not as well as you, I hear," he said. He was smiling, but he still looked exhausted.

"Are you okay, though?" Casey asked. "People treating you okay?"

"Uh-huh, so far so good," he said. "The team seems to have my back, at least. When does Derek come back?"

"Probably next week," she said. Then she had to move because the girl who belonged to the seat she was in stood over her, clearing her throat impatiently.

At lunch one of those oversized greeting cards circulated and it was completely filled with signatures by the time it made its way to Casey. It was covered in glitter and said "MISS YOU. "The glitter got on her shirt, arms and face as she brought it to the car. She checked her phone on the way back to the cafeteria. This is when she got the message from Derek that Edwin was a petty tyrant. They texted back and forth for a few minutes and got the idea to bring Sam, Emily and Sheldon over.


	16. Chapter 16

How to Fall Head over Heels

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I got nothing. No show, no characters...try not to rub it in.

Chapter Sixteen

Part One: Derek

_I think I missed Schlepper,_ Derek wrote, after Sheldon had taken Emily home.

"Betcha you never thought you'd say that," Sam said. Derek shook his head. In the hour or so that Sheldon and Emily had been at his house, Sheldon had referred to Sam as a pain in the neck (Sam choked on his soda), had wondered aloud what would be a good price for a back waxing (don't ask) and had rhapsodized about Emily's childbearing hips. Early on, Emily had taken to hiding her face behind a throw pillow, but everyone had needed a good laugh so badly that it had been okay.

"Does he do it on purpose?"Sam asked. Derek nodded.

_It's his own brand of comedy. The pain in the neck thing was an accident, tho. You saw the color he turned, _Derek wrote.

"I was too busy turning my own colors," Sam said.

_He was almost as red as you_, Derek wrote. _Wish I'd gotten it on film_.

They were up in Derek's room. Casey was downstairs in the kitchen; it was her turn to cook. Derek warned Sam about the possible lack of meat in that night's meal.

"I like tofu," Sam said. Derek stuck his tongue out in cartoonish disgust.

_But I'd eat it if I could_, he wrote. He noticed that the mention of this made Sam chew on his lip a little. This, for Sam, was a sign of ultimate anxiety. Ear scratching was one step away from catatonia. So Derek had to put him at ease again.

_I go to the doctor again Friday_, he wrote. _She'll probably give me the go ahead to eat real food again, and maybe if I'm really lucky, she'll let me talk._

"Crap," Sam said. "That soon?"

_Enjoy the peace while it lasts_, Derek wrote.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," Sam said. He was chewing on the lip again. Derek grinned and crossed his eyes at him.

_You're such a dork_, Derek wrote.

"I know you are but what am I?" Sam said. Derek smirked and held up ten fingers.

"Are you sure we're okay?" Sam asked.

Derek rolled his eyes. _Stop asking, you dork_, he wrote. _I'll sic Marti on you._

"And she'll, what, tickle me to death?" Sam said. Sam had been afraid of Marti when she'd gotten home from her play date earlier. But Sam had underestimated the generous nature of Derek's baby sister. Derek didn't know who'd told her how he'd gotten hurt, but she knew, and she didn't hold it against Sam. She'd climbed into his lap.

_Okay, so I'll have Lizzie beat your ass_, he wrote. Sam shuddered.

"She's got a good right hook, that girl," Sam said. "Who taught her that?"

Derek shrugged.

"It's awesome," Sam said. Derek nodded.

_I think it's genetic. I try not to piss Nora off too much_, Derek wrote.

"Or Casey?" Sam said.

_It's still too much fun to piss off Casey_, Derek wrote. _She looks like an angry Tweety Bird._

"I'm gonna tell her you said that," Sam said.

_Then you'll see the face for yourself,_ Derek wrote. _But remember, Tweety is all mine._

"At least you admit it," Sam said.

Part Two: Derek

Friday.

He sat on the exam table again, paper crinkling under him, though he'd insisted on keeping his shorts on. He was sitting through yet another stroboscopy, with the same doctor—Dr. Trent, her name was—he really hadn't been paying attention the last couple times he saw her. The monitor was showing all kinds of things that Derek could live a long and happy life without ever seeing. Again, he refused to look. The doctor asked him to vocalize a bit and he did, cringing at the sound of his weakened voice, but relieved that he had one to cringe at.

"Are you sure you don't wanna look, Derek?" the doctor said. "I promise it's not as gross as it was last time." He kept his eyes fixed on his hands. She laughed at him.

"So the news is good," she said. "I'd say that you are one lucky little pup. This really is a miraculously fast recovery."

There was a long pause in which Derek didn't dare open his mouth. The doctor seemed to think that this was funny.

"You can go ahead and talk, you know," she said.

"You're sure?" he said.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said. "But don't overdo it. And you know what I'm about to say don't you?"

"Think so," he said. "Anything weird happens, I gotta come back and see you."

"Ah, so you do listen," she said. "Most patients seem to hear static when I talk. This is refreshing."

Dr. Trent called Derek's dad in to sign some papers, and after his dad thanked her profusely and Derek hugged her, they were on their way.

At the car, Derek pulled out his cell phone. The readout said 1:15 pm. Casey would be in History. The timing couldn't have been more perfect if he'd planned it.

"What're you doing?" his dad asked. It was a rhetorical question.

He dialed her number, waiting for the familiar voice mail message: "This is Casey...MacDonald...and...I can't take your call, so if you'd leave a message, or not, it's up to you, but if you do...BEEP."

"Casey," he said. "It's me. I figure you're in History, so I thought I'd leave a message for you...Because I can. Aaand I love you. Been wanting to say that forever. Okay, bye."

His dad laughed at him and continued to do so the whole way home.

A/N: Not quite done yet, but almost. Sorry it took so long to update; I was occupied with another of my candlelight suppers. ;-)


	17. Chapter 17

How to Fall Head over Heels

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Life with Derek. Sniff.

Chapter Seventeen

Part One: Emily

Emily's science class finally ended and she waited for Casey by her car. She watched Casey try to maneuver her way through the crowd and finally try to take a shortcut over a pile of snow. It didn't take Nostradamus to predict the end result of this venture. At the top, the mound shifted under her weight and Casey slid down the mound. Once she got up, Emily could see snow clinging to Casey's jeans up to her knees.

"Yeah, yeah I'm clumsy," Casey said to a nearby chorus of Klutzilla chanters, "It's not a secret."

She shook her pant legs while she walked over to the car and she turned to Emily who was laughing at her. "Ta-daaa," Casey said with a quick bow.

"Are you okay?" Emily said, still giggling.

"Yeah, yeah," Casey said. "Why do I get the feeling that 'Klutzilla' will be on my gravestone?"

"Guess that depends on how you die," Emily said.

Casey laughed hard at that. "That's messed up," she said. "Emily, I really think that you've been hanging out with Sheldon too long."

"Yeah," Emily said, "He does rub off on me."

"Can you please not talk about rubbing in the context of Sheldon Schlepper?"

"He does give great massages," Emily said, enjoying the look of horror on Casey's face. "Which I will really need to get my circulation going if you don't open the car up and turn the heater on, Helloooo!"

"Oops," Casey said as she booped the key less entry thingee and let herself and Emily in. Once she had the car started and the heater going, she pulled her phone out to check for messages. She had one. Emily watched her curse at the maddening slowness of the recording that she had to sit through before she could enter her pin number and get her message.

Next thing Emily knew, Casey was crying, a hand over her mouth. The girl really did cry over everything, and Emily never could tell whether or not these were happy tears.

"Casey," she began cautiously. Casey hit a button and handed Emily the phone.

A squeaky, but familiar voice came on and said: "Casey, it's me. I figure you're in History, so I thought I'd leave a message for you...Because I can. Aaand I love you. Been wanting to say that forever. Okay, bye."

And Emily started crying right along with Casey.

"I can't decide," Casey said, "whether that is the least or the most romantic thing I've ever heard."

"I'm leaning toward _most_ right now," Emily said.

"Oh God," Casey said. "What do I do now?"

"Well," Emily said. "You can drive home. Then, you can pin him to his precious recliner and—"

"Stop!!!" Casey said. "I get the idea."

Part Two: Derek.

He officially hated his voice. Some people, he imagined, would have ended up with sexier, deeper raspy voices, but he sounded unsettlingly like SpongeBob Squarepants. Dr. Trent had assured him that it would even out in a couple days, but that didn't change the fact that now that he could talk, he almost didn't want to. Almost.

Edwin was going to enjoy this when he got home. He'd undoubtedly get him on tape and keep it as blackmail. Derek was starting to lose control of him; this was unacceptable. He'd have to think of something, later though because suddenly he heard Casey pull up.

His dad poked his head out of the kitchen. He was wearing an apron that said "Kiss me, I'm Italian." Derek wondered how his dad had found it; he thought he'd hidden it better than that. "Think that's Casey," he said. Derek nodded. His dad looked at him, smirked, and pretended for a second that he was going to stand watch over the two of them.

The door opened and Casey whooshed in, almost tripping over her own bookbag. She wiggled out of her coat and hopped one legged as she tried to get her wet boots off. She gave up and sat on a step as she finally got out of them.

"Stay there. Be right back," she said, pointing at Derek. "Hi George," she said.

"Hey, Casey," Dad said, shaking his head. "I have garlic to chop," he said as he went back to the kitchen.

After a mini eternity, one in which Derek finally gave up and started to head upstairs after her, she came back.

"Uh-uh," she said, shooing him down. "Back to the couch."

He obeyed. When did he start obeying?

"Now, sit," she said. He did. She stood over him.

"Now say it again," she said.

"I love you?" he said.

"Are you asking or telling?" she asked.

He grinned. "I love you." She pecked him on the mouth and sat down.

"One more time?"

"I love you."

"That's more like it," she said, leaning in for a longer kiss.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he said, breaking off the kiss.

She didn't even pretend that she didn't know what he meant. "I love you. (peck) I love you. (peck) I love you.(peck) I love you. (peck) I love you. (peck) and I love you. Methinks we're even now." She said. She paused for a second and counted on her fingers. "Right?"

"I dunno," he said and went in for another kiss.

"So when are you taking me out?"she asked.

"What happened to liberated womanhood?" he asked. "You're supposed to take me out."

"You're funny," she said. "But now, you should save your voice. You haven't talked this much in a week."

"Oh I see how this is gonna go. Every time I talk back to you—mmph" She put her hand over his mouth.

"Shhhhh," she said, then kissed his ear.

So he needed to think about where he was taking her.

Part Three: Lizzie

"Okay," Lizzie said, closing the door of the games closet and leaning on it. "They're disgusting."

"Sickening," Edwin agreed.

"She's all giggly."

"He let her have the remote."

"I saw that," Lizzie laughed. "He's whipped."

"It's scaring me," Edwin said. "Who is he and what has he done with Derek?"

"And I don't think I can ever sit on that couch again," Lizzie said.

"I locked the door to my room," Edwin said. "Did you lock yours?"

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "They just seem so bent on swapping spit in every room in the house."

"Among other things."

"Ew!" Lizzie said. "Don't say that! I don't wanna even think about that!"

"It might be too soon for that anyway," Edwin said.

"Ewww!" Lizzie said. She waved a hand as if something were stuck to it.

"I think we're safe in here, though," Edwin said. He put a hand on the small of her back and led her to her preferred spot under the slight overhang of the _Monopoly_ box. He sat across from her on the floor near the dilapidated _Twister_ box that had been teetering half off the shelf for as long as he could remember.

Part Four: Casey.

Saturday Night

Dating somebody who lived in her house is an experience that Casey didn't feel prepared for. Where would the mystery be? She couldn't have her grand entrance. And he's probably going to catch her in curlers. That would almost be worse than the time he caught her in her drawers. Not the cute ones, the big, cotton granny panties.

She shook her head to clear it. She wanted to look at this in more of a glass-half-full sort of way. So what if he saw the curlers? That only meant she took pride in her appearance and wanted to be pretty for him. He'd appreciate it. Besides, it wasn't as if he thought her hair grew that way.

She sprayed some perfume and walked through it, then gave up the ghost and sprayed her neck directly.

She did her makeup quickly, trying not to overdo it, or poke herself in the eye. She really needed to keep pointy things away from her eyes when she was so nervous. Then she pulled out her fluttery red top and her dark jeans and wiggled into both.

There was a knock at the door. "I'll be downstairs," Derek said.

"Okay," Casey said. She took a last look at the mirror, wondering if she should have gone with the blue sweater to counteract the rapidly spreading flush that was turning her face bright red. But that would smear her face, and she didn't have it in her to do her makeup again. Besides, Derek was waiting.

He was letting her make her entrance. _He heee_, she thought.

She slowly descended the stairs just in time to see her mom move toward Derek.

"Who are you kidding with this?" Mom said, sticking her hands into Derek's too neat hair.

"Nora! Quit it," Derek said, trying to smooth it out again. He was wearing a brown sweater and tan cords and it made Casey grip the rail a little tighter.

Casey got to the bottom of the stairs and grabbed Derek's wrists.

"Leave it," she said.

George, who had been sitting on the couch, beckoned Derek over, and they had a quick confab in which money was exchanged.

"Now get lost," George said. "The both of you."

"Don't be too late," her mom said. "Twelve o'clock."

"Nora," George said.

"Okay, twelve-thirty," she relented. She kissed both of them on the foreheads. She wasn't wearing lipstick at least.

Derek held out her coat for her. Who on earth had trained him this well? She grinned at her mom, who covered her mouth and looked over at George, who winked.

They stepped out into the driveway. The night was completely clear and she could smell ice in the air but, thankfully couldn't see any.

"I suppose you wanna drive?" Casey said, walking to the passenger side.

"Duh?" Derek said following her and opening her door ceremoniously.

"Ooh," she said as she climbed in. She stopped herself from pulling down the sun visor to check her makeup in the mirror.

He started the car up and pulled out as soon as the heater started to blow hot air.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he got on the highway.

"You'll see."

They pulled into a parking lot and he went around and opened her door for her again. She made a mental note not to get too used to this.

He led her to the door of the restaurant with his hand on the small of her back, which gave her the shivers.

The restaurant, La Stella di Napoli, smelled of oregano, basil, and milky fresh mozzarella. Casey took a deep breath, but then caught Derek watching her reaction and and blew it out guiltily.

"Like?"he asked.

"Yeah," she said.

There was an older woman with short salt and pepper hair leaning on a podium. She had to be the hostess. Derek went over to her and gave her his name. She checked the list and grabbed two menus. As she led them to a table, she tried to speak to him in Italian. The look of total confusion on his face was priceless.

"Sorry," the hostess said. "I really should learn not to assume that every Italian I see speaks Italian. With a name like Venturi, I took a shot. So, can I recommend some bruschetta to start with?"

"Um...what's that?" Casey asked.

"It's basically garlic bread," the hostess said, "but with tomato, sometimes prosciutto."

Casey looked at Derek who shrugged and nodded, and she said, "Sounds good."

"Okay," the hostess said. "I am Angela by the way, and your waitress will be Gina, and I'll send her right out with that bruschetta for you."

They looked over the menu. It was full of stuff that Casey wanted to try, and she of course, could not make up her mind.

"What are you having?" She asked Derek.

"Dunno," he said. "I know you'll make fun of me for getting chicken parmigiana or something right?"

"No," Casey said. "I'd make fun of you for asking for a pizza burger, maybe, but chicken parm is okay."

Gina the waitress came over. She was in her early twenties with dyed black hair, black nail polish and several rings on her fingers. She looked at Casey and Derek like they were the cutest things she's ever seen. "What can I get for you?" she asked. "Can I recommend a few specials?"

Both Casey and Derek nodded and Gina rattled off several impressive sounding dishes in accentless Italian; it could have been bug carcasses scraped from the bottom of the refrigerator, but since Gina was talking about it in Italian, Casey wanted it. Gina was, however, kind enough to explain what everything was.

"I'll have the seafood tortellini," Casey said.

Derek stuck with the menu, "I'll go with the calamari with the risotto." He smiled at Casey when he said 'risotto'.

"And to drink?" Gina said.

"Ginger ale," Casey said.

"Same," Derek said.

When the waitress left, Casey leaned in and asked Derek, "You do know what Calamari is, don't you?"

"Yep," he replied, grinning. He didn't think _she_ did. "Whale testicles, everyone knows that," he bluffed.

"So immature," she said. But she was laughing.

The food was incredible. Both of them ate with obvious enjoyment and Gina continued to look at them like she wanted to keep them in her pocket forever. Derek had some trouble finishing his, so they had it wrapped up.

Derek paid, left a nice tip and they headed back. A few blocks from home, he turned to her and said. "I want ice cream, you want ice cream?"

"But you didn't finish your 'whale testicles'" Casey said.

"What's your point?" Derek asked. "Believe me, my _squid_ will be eaten, probably at around 2:00am, if Dad doesn't beat me to it."

"Or Edwin," Casey said.

"Edwin is not a fan of calamari," Derek said.

"Is it gonna be okay in the car?"

"Yeah, it's like twenty degrees out, it'll be fine."

He pulled into the diner's parking lot. There was a sign draped across the entrance that said "Karaoke Night."

"It's gonna be loud in there," Casey said. "Are you sure, you'll be okay? I don't want you talking over people."

"I'll whisper in your ear if I have to," he said. She got goosebumps.

They went in and found the place pretty loaded with kids from their high school, all of whom made a fuss over Derek and Casey. Steve Krakowski, a senior they both knew, was the waiter who met them at the door.

"Good to see you out and about, dude," Steve said, patting Derek on the shoulder. "How you doing, doing okay?"

"Yeah," Derek said, " Thanks."

"And you, Miss Lady," he said, turning to Casey. "Look at you all dressed up." She blushed.

"Let's see if we can find you a good spot," he said, beckoning them to follow.

Casey caught sight of Emily, who waved both of them over to the booth she was sharing with Sheldon.

"You okay, sitting with them?" Steve asked. Derek looked at Casey who nodded. Steve put their menus on the table.

"I shall return," he said, with a flourish.

"Sheldon," Emily said. Sheldon looked at her, eyebrows raised. She patted the seat next to her.

"Ohhh," Sheldon said. He got up and moved to sit beside Emily. Casey and Derek slid into the other side.

"So, Derek," Sheldon said. "It is good to see you here, in public and everything."

"Likewise," Derek said.

"And the voice is sexy," Sheldon said. Casey never could tell whether he was kidding or not.

"Thanks," Derek said, one eyebrow up. Sheldon and Emily burst out laughing.

"You guys have no sense of humor," he said.

"None at all," Emily said. Derek shrugged at Casey.

Steve came back, and Derek and Casey ordered their dessert. Apparently, Steve had Karaoke duty because after he dropped off their munchies, he climbed onto the mini stage.

"Well, then boys and girls," he began "Let us see who's first." He pulled a piece of paper from a fishbowl he had next to him. "Aaaand we have Debra Singh. He he, your name's Singh!"

"Yeah, ain't heard that before," said Debra, a small Indian girl with a lot of curly hair. She sang Fiona Apple's "Criminal," to many catcalls. She was followed by a couple of kids Casey didn't know, then Steve himself filled time singing a competent version of Elvis Costello's "Veronica."

Then Sheldon and Emily were up. They sang Plus 44's "Make You Smile," which had recently become very close to Casey's heart.

"Hey," Derek said in Casey's ear. "At least he knows the song this time." Casey laughed.

Sheldon and Emily, both being pretty decent singers, got the most applause of the night. And the fact that they looked really close to tearing each other's clothes off didn't hurt either.

When they got back to the table, Sheldon said, "We'll have to get the two of you up there eventually, when Derek sounds a little less like Rod Stewart."

"Thanks for the warning," Derek said, but got drowned out by feedback. Sheldon bent closer and Derek repeated it.

"Meanwhile, Casey," Emily said, handing her the song list.

"Nope," Casey said.

"Uh-huh," Emily said.

"Nuh-uh," Casey said. Derek grabbed the song list and handed it to Casey.

"You know you want to," he said. "Go on. I'll stay here and watch. Don't take any waiters' numbers."

"They've moved on to Debra," Casey said, pretending to be jealous. "Fine," she said, picking a song and writing it down. Emily ran over to the stage and handed it to Steve, ignoring the fishbowl completely.

"What'd you pick?" Derek asked.

"It's a surprise," Casey said. Derek pouted. She leaned closer to talk into his ear this time. "Don't pout, Puppy, you'll find out soon enough."

He blushed.

"Okay," Steve said. "Casey MacDonald, you're up."

There was a chorus of whoops as she headed up to the stage.

"Well," she said after she got there. "I guess I must dedicate this, because I owe someone a romantic gesture. He knows who he is."

She sang Alanis Morissette's "Head over Feet," and she could see Derek turning into jelly from where she was standing.

People would have a lot to talk about in school on Monday.

FIN

A/N: This has been ridiculous amounts of fun, but this is it. At least until the sequel :-)


End file.
